Butterfly Effect
by E. J. Morgan
Summary: One tiny difference in the canon happenings can have long-lasting consequences. In this, Hetty didn't know Comescu was already in the US, she didn't go to Romania and she never got the chance to tell Callen about the family feud before it was too late. Now, after getting attacked and injured, whom will Callen turn to? Whom does he trust when he feels Hetty is keeping secrets?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Sit down, Mr. Callen. I'm going to tell you everything I know."

Callen didn't move towards the offered chair, he continued standing in front of the tiny woman's desk, regarding her, feeling quite suspicious of her intentions.

"Why now?" – He asked finally, causing the operations manager to sigh sadly.

"Because I can't bear to carry these secrets anymore…" – She admitted reluctantly. You could say many things about Henrietta Lange and most of them would be true, but certainly never ever could it be claimed that she wasn't brutally blunt.

"So…" – Callen fumed. – "It's not for me, is it? It is for _you_. To make _you_ feel better."

"I didn't-"

"Forget it, Hetty. I'm not interested in listening to your version of the truth anymore and you know why? Because _I don't trust you!_" – There it was. He had finally said it. This had been on his mind ever since he had noticed she knew a lot more about him, his past and his family than she was telling him. Ever since he had seen that envelope which could only be opened in the event of her death, which she wouldn't let him see now no matter how he begged and begged… She didn't care about how important it was for him to learn who he was and where he came from. She didn't _understand_.

But she understood now that something had changed between them. Something that might be irreparable and thus be very final. Her 'boy' just wasn't hers anymore.

"Mr. Callen. Please…"

"Good night, Hetty." – With that, Callen turned and left his teary-eyed mentor behind, not bothering to see how much hurt he had infected upon her with his harsh words. It was certainly nothing compared to what he was feeling all the time; at least he thought so.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1.**

The next morning found Hetty, Nell and Eric inside Ops, standing in front of the huge screen, watching in wide-eyed terror as one of their own was chased by not only one but three black SUVs in downtown Los Angeles while the rest of team was trying hard to get there in time to help. Right now, it didn't look like they would manage, and as the two young intelligence analysts gasped when Callen's car made yet another near-fatal turn to avoid the flying bullets, Hetty remembered how things had escalated from bad to worse just about ten minutes ago…

"_Where's G? He was supposed to bring breakfast today!" – Complained Sam, having determined that his partner wasn't at his desk or anywhere in the bullpen. – "If I starve, it will be on him!"_

"_I haven't seen him today." – Said Deeks who had just arrived. – "Maybe he's stuck in traffic. Kens isn't here either." – But at that moment their brown-haired colleague waltzed in with a smile on her face. _

"_Morning, guys! Hey, Sam: what's up?"_

"_I'm hungry!" – Groaned the ex-SEAL, looking expectantly towards the entrance. – "Have you seen G? Is he coming?"_

"_Ahm… no… Sorry."_

_Sam growled again but before he could say something, Eric appeared at the top of the stairs._

"_Guys! You need to come up to Ops." – He said urgently._

"_What? No whistle? No drumming? No-"_

"_Not this time, Deeks. It's Callen…"_

_This was enough to get everyone moving at lightning speed and so about ten seconds later, Nell began briefing them._

"_Callen phoned in just a few minutes ago, claiming to be followed by unmarked SUVs. While we were accessing the traffic cameras to try and identify them, they started to shoot at him."_

_Eric continued._

"_Three SUVs with at least three shooters each. Plus the drivers who get to concentrate on just… you know: driving. That a lot of firepower and Callen's gravely outnumbered." – He pointed out unnecessarily. _

"_Miss Blye, Mr. Deeks and Mr. Hanna: go, help him!"_

Right now, Hetty closed her eyes as if to brace herself for what she was about to hear as she asked:

"ETA for Mr. Hanna and the others?"

Nell and Eric exchanged glances before Nell whispered almost inaudibly.

"Still twelve minutes out…"

At that very moment there was a second while everything seemed to stand still, then they watched in frozen stupor as Callen's car flipper over, turned three times then came to a halt upside-down, fuel leaking, wheels still turning from the impossible speed they had been going before. The windows were all broken and some papers had scattered inside and even outside the car on the ground. From their angle they couldn't see the driver's side properly but the lack of movement from the only occupant was painfully evident.

"Jesus." – Was all Eric could say, staring wide-eyed at the screen and trying to comprehend that yes, what they'd just seen had really happened and no, it wasn't just a computer game where you could try again if you failed one attempt.

They saw the three SUVs stop next to the wreck and a man, clad completely in dark clothing, face skillfully covered, got out of the first one, and, his gun with a silencer held ready, cautiously walked towards it.

"Oh my God!" – Gasped Nell who was unable to tear her eyes away from the screen and yet feared she'd never be able to sleep again if she'd have to watch live as one of her best friends was shot.

In the comms they could hear Sam, Kensi and Deeks encouraging each other and their cars to move faster, but it was all turning into a monotone background noise no one was really paying attention to. Especially not Hetty, who seemed about ready to faint any moment as she watched the man crouch down to look into the upside-down car-

\- and promptly fell back with a bullet hole in his forehead.

"Oh!" – Was all she had time to say when bullets started to fly towards her agent again whom they got to see for a second climbing through the broken window – looking all battered and bloody – before he ran/hobbled away into a CCTV blind spot and disappeared from their eyes.

"Mr. Beal! Find him!"

"On it!"

"He's phone's dead…" – Nell, who had been trying to call their colleague or at least ping his cell, whispered.

At that moment the rest of the team arrived and they engaged the remaining attackers in a violent gun fight that ended about three minutes later with all the dark-clothed men dead at their feet and a big, frightened audience slowly gathering, coming out from behind their hiding places. The only one missing was…

"Eric, can you see G? He's not here!" – Sam demanded.

"I'm trying!" – The young man snapped, apparently frustrated with the lack of success he'd been having. – "It's like he's just apparated!"

"What!?"

"I mean… teleported."

"I know what that means! I want to know how this happened and where he went!" – Sam shouted, not caring about the stares he was receiving from onlookers for 'speaking to himself'. – "He was here a few minutes ago and there are cameras everywhere!"

Kensi grabbed his arm in a calming manner.

"You know Callen. If he doesn't want to be found-"

"Why would he not want to be found!?" – The ex-SEAL bellowed angrily and didn't realize how Kensi took a step back as if he had slapped her and didn't even see Deeks' eyes flash protectively at his behavior towards their female colleague. He just wanted his partner – his _brother_ – back and make sure he would be all right; was that too much to ask for!?

Apparently, yes.

"I'm sorry." – Eric sighed. – "I just can't find him." – He admitted reluctantly.

"Keep searching, Mr. Beal. Mr. Hanna? I want the three of you back here."

"But, Hetty-"

"No 'buts'. We need to make sure the danger's been eliminated and Mr. Callen can return to us safely when he's ready."

"If he'll still be alive! Who knows what injuries-"

"Mr. Hanna. Come back."

With that, Hetty staggered out of Ops, leaving two shaken intelligence analysts and three broken extremely worried agents in her wake.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"Why did you order us back, Hetty? G is out there, alone and injured. We should be-"

"That is exactly why you needed to come back, Mr. Hanna." – The operations manager interrupted. – "Mr. Callen needs us. All of us and at our best. Not running around in the city without a clue what we're doing. We must think about what we know and come up with a solid plan to find him." – She insisted.

"But while we're doing it who says there's not more of these men out to kill him? We could be wasting precious time! Time he doesn't have!"

"Mr. Hanna, if Mr. Callen doesn't want to be found, he won't be! Not by them and not by us."

"Why wouldn't he want to by found by _us_!?" – Then Sam narrowed his eyes in suspicion. – "Is something going on?"

Hetty sighed and averted her eyes.

"Plenty, Mr. Hanna. Plenty. But only a tiny part of it is relevant now."

"And that part would be…?" – Usually Sam wouldn't be this disrespectful with their operations manager; if there was a disagreement, it was always Callen's responsibility as the team leader to confront her and ask the uncomfortable questions. And Callen never had a problem with that: though he respected and even loved Hetty a lot, he was not shy to argue his point – and he usually won, too, which, everyone suspected, was just fine with Hetty who undoubtedly adored the young man and wanted him to thrive. Never had anyone else gotten away with the things their team leader regularly did, let alone climbed the ranks so rapidly. The entire LA office had been built around him – _for_ him – after all, and during Macy's time as an operations manager it hadn't even been clear just who was actually running things around the office… Sam would swear it had been G. And while Hetty had more control over the man, it was still very apparent the agent wouldn't be tamed. Ever. Right now however, Callen wasn't here. That was the problem. So, it was up to Sam to take lead and stand up for his friend. – "Did something happen? Is that the reason G didn't pick up his phone yesterday in the evening and didn't meet up with me this morning like he was supposed to?"

"Mr. Callen and I had a slight difference of opinions yesterday." – Was all Hetty told him and Sam opened his mouth to inquiry for more but Deeks beat him to it.

"Callen and you have an argument almost daily but it usually doesn't cause him to withdraw from us." – He pointed out, wincing when he realized what he'd just said. – "I mean… I didn't mean… Kens, help me out here."

"You dug yourself into that hole, Deeks. But… Hetty, he's also right: an argument between you two is not _that_ unusual… Callen never seems to hold a grudge afterwards."

Their boss thought for a moment but then her shoulders slumped and she heaved a heavy sigh.

"This time, it was different. Personal."

Kensi's eyes widened.

"How personal?"

There was a heavy silence during which the three agents and the two technical analysts came to the conclusion she wouldn't answer anymore. In the end, she – like always – surprised them.

"He found out I know more about his past than I've told him." – She said without beating around the bush. There was no reason to try to sugarcoat the truth anyway. – "Miss Jones. Please, bring up the file named 'Comescu' from my computer. I'll show you who I suspect is behind today's attack."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

Callen had waited in his hiding space for about half an hour until he was sure nobody was looking for him anymore. And that included his teammates. When the coast was clear, he quietly and slowly crawled out from the basement of the old, abandoned house through the broken window and winced when – along with his numerous injuries – his new cut on his stomach tore open and started to bleed profoundly.

"Shit." – He cursed, making a mental list of his aches.

He was pretty sure his right arm was broken, but that was one of the smallest problems. His dislocated shoulder, probably fractured ankle and the way how to simply continue breathing seemed to be a difficult task worried him even more. And yet, somehow, for some unfathomable reason, he felt reluctant to accept the help he new his teammates would offer.

He knew without a doubt they were out of their minds with worry and would run to get him if they could. He knew Hetty would be at the breaking point soon if he didn't reappear because – despite their argument of the previous night – she loved him very much. None of this mattered right now though. Nearly dying then getting away had presented him with an opportunity he might have needed for a long time: he could get away from it all.

After all, this was what G. Callen usually did when things got boring or for any reason unbearable. As a matter of fact, he'd never been anywhere this long before. It was true, he had started to feel like he _belonged_ and as a result, he'd let down his guard. But belonging was just an illusion, and letting down his walls had turned out to be a fatal mistake. The woman he had so foolishly trusted; someone who had become almost like he believed a mother would be; had betrayed him in the worst way possible: she knew that learning about himself, his past and his heritage was more important to him than anything else, and yet that was exactly what she had kept secret from him. He would never forgive her for that.

He limped toward a public phone – thank God some of them still worked – and, called the only person he thought he could still trust. He was aware of the time difference and knew the man on the other end of the line would be at work now. He hoped he would be considerate enough to keep their conversation private even if his team was with him…

_\- Hello? Who's there?_

\- Jethro…

_\- G? G, what's wrong? You sound terrible!_

\- I… I don't really feel well…

He really didn't. G suspected he had fever and all his limbs were starting to hurt very badly now that the first shock was wearing off.

_\- What happened? Where are your teammates?_

G was sure he'd never heard the strict NCIS team leader this worried before; not even when they had been in mortal danger in Russia. Or was it Serbia? Things were getting fuzzy…

\- Did you save my ass in Serbia or in Russia?

_\- G, I _always_ save your ass. But where are you? What happened?_

\- Oh… well… I actually kinda need you to save my ass right now…

He was swaying and his vision was so blurred he wouldn't even recognize Sam if he were standing in front of him.

_\- What happened?_

\- I would ask Sam but I can't because he has a family and he's loyal to Hetty and NCIS and it's good so and it's better for him if he doesn't know anything and I can't ask Kensi or Deeks because they're too young and they're too innocent and Nell and Eric don't do well with stress and Hetty doesn't deserve me to start a rebellion against her and the team should function and-

_\- G, for God's sake, just tell me where you are and what happened!_

\- Somebody's trying to kill me.

_\- What's new about that?_

G rolled his eyes before remembering that Gibbs couldn't see him. Come to think of it, this was a good question. There was nothing unusual about people shooting at him or trying to blow him up or coming at him with a drawn knife… what was new was the hatreds he had seen in their eyes. It was a mission. They didn't want to kill him for a case. They wanted to kill him and period.

And he was sure Hetty knew all about it. Why hadn't she warned him? Was that what she'd been trying to tell him the day before?

_\- G, you still there? Talk to me!_

\- Hetty knew, Jethro. She knew and she didn't tell me. She knows things… Secrets. About me.

_\- She wouldn't!_

Finally, the man seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

\- I can't remain here and I can't trust anyone, Jethro.

_\- Are you injured?_

\- It's not bad.

He crossed his fingers behind his back as if this way the lie wouldn't matter.

\- I need to get out of LA.

_\- D.C.?_

\- That would be far enough. For now.

On short term anyway. On long term, he was thinking Europe…

_\- Are you in any condition to travel?_

\- Yes.

No, he wasn't. If his headache was anything to go by.

_\- I'll arrange it. Don't do anything stupid until then!_

\- You know me.

_\- Exactly._

They agreed on the time Callen should be at the airport, now he'd just have to make sure to get there without crossing any CCTV cameras. Oh, and he'd have to grab his fake ID and passport. The one no one, not even Hetty knew about.

Callen didn't have much to lose. He didn't have a home. The house he had purchased was bare and didn't mean much to him. He would never have bought it if not for Hetty… she could have it then. There was nothing in it that warranted his attention, so he wouldn't bother packing anything but his fake credentials.

He didn't have a family to say goodbye to. Hell, he didn't even have a name. G. Callen was just part of a name but from now on, he would be Michael T. Campbell, an identity he had created long before joining NCIS as a backup and had, with great foresight, never mentioned to anyone.

He would miss his teammates. Over the years, they had become his family. The only family he'd ever known, given that before NCIS, he had always worked as a lone wolf; he'd never had to depend on anyone to watch his six and he'd never had to look out for anyone else either. Joining NCIS had changed it all…

When he'd been made a team leader he'd had to understand: now he was responsible for his people, not just for himself. And with being a team leader came the fact that he was required to follow protocol and the chain of command. Well, at least to a degree. It wasn't his fault he'd never quite been able to listen to Macy. The woman didn't have the air of authority and was uncertain of herself to the stage where she was actually glad if someone took the pressure off of her shoulders and made a decision for her. Quite different with Hetty; she always knew what she wanted and she expected everyone to follow her lead. And he did. Mostly.

Maybe this had been his mistake.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

Getting all the way to the airport without being caught on camera would be impossible for anyone else and very difficult for Callen on a normal day. Getting all the way to the airport without being caught on camera AND not passing out from the pain he was in had been an incredible challenge on this particular day for Callen. But he had managed and now he was waiting in line for security check, being careful to keep his face covered. He didn't think Eric and Nell had begun monitoring airports just yet but he figured better be safe than sorry. Gibbs had arranged a private flight for him, thanks to his buddies at the FBI for whom, apparently, it was normal to cross the country on their own jet whenever they wished to do so. Some agencies were luckier than others, although Callen had been an FBI agent for a short while himself and still hadn't had the luxury of traveling on a jet at wish. Outrageous, really.

Finally, he was inside. He repositioned the baseball cap on his head and looked around, even though he had no idea who would be waiting for him. He pulled out the Magazine – 'Army', which had been Gibbs' idea of course – and held it up so that anyone looking for this as a sign would be able to see it. This task was made more difficult by the fact that he could only use his left hand but soon it had the desired result: a balding, gray-haired man in his fifties stepped up to him and whispered:

"Rule #27?"

Callen smiled in spite of the aches and pains he was feeling.

"You mean the one you just failed spectacularly at?" – Sniggering, he dutifully quoted: - "Rule #27 'There are two ways to follow someone. First way, they never notice you. Second way, they only notice you.' Sadly, I saw you coming at me from about five meters. I could have taken you out or taken off, had I wanted to. Now, my turn: rule #40?"

The newcomer returned the cheeky smile with one of his own.

"Oh, the one that applies to you the best right now? 'If it seems like someone is out to get you, they are.' Tough luck, kid." – He extended his hand. – "Tobias Fornell. FBI."

Callen awkwardly twisted his left hand to be able to shake Fornell's right one, nodding his head towards his broken arm as an explanation.

"Michael T. Campbell." – Seeing the older man's eyebrows rise up a notch, he added. – "Right now, at least."

Fornell nodded in understanding before motioning for Callen to follow him into the area where the private planes waited for their passengers. He stopped right in front of the gate that would take them to a rather comfortable-looking aircraft.

"I borrowed this baby from the BAU." – He explained, before adding as an explanation. – "The Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. They owed me one. A weird branch, if I'm telling you so myself…"

Callen rolled his eyes.

"I know that. I used to be FBI."

This was definitely news to the man.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just for a short while. Not something I'm proud of or I'd care to repeat."

"I hear you." – As soon as they were safely in the air, Fornell turned to Callen again. – "So, tell me: how well you know Jethro? Any funny, embarrassing stories?"

"Oh, yeah. Plenty. Did you know…"


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

"I'm sorry, Hetty. We've tried everything. It's like he's been swallowed by the Earth…" – Nell said, barely keeping her tears at bay.

Eric agreed.

"He doesn't appear on any traffic cameras that were operating nearby when the… accident… happened. He doesn't appear on any recordings near his house, the Boatshed, Ops, or any of the team's houses. Neither near any of your residents. Where else would he go?"

The small woman felt as broken as she looked.

"Have you tried bus and subway stations?"

"Yes. Nothing."

"And the airports?"

Two nods confirmed.

"His passport hasn't been used and we're still running facial rec, but…"

"If he doesn't want to be found, he probably won't be." – Hetty finished for her, before sighing. – "Keep it up anyway. I'll be in my office."

As she left, the two intelligence analysts exchanged sad glances. They didn't really know what had happened between their boss and friend but it must have been very bad for Callen to disappear like this – especially in a situation that dire.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"So, the Comescus want G dead because they hold an age-old grudge against his family? A family he didn't even know? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Maybe it doesn't, Mr. Hanna, but it's still the truth."

"So, Hetty, do I understand right: you knew Callen's mother and you never told him?" – Deeks whistled. – "No wonder he's pissed."

Kensi elbowed him in the side as a warning but secretly, she agreed. She couldn't even imagine how she would feel in Callen's place: he'd been starved for every little piece of information about his background his entire life. Hell, he didn't even know his name, for God's sake! And now it turns out that someone he'd been working with for years, someone he'd known for even longer than that, had known many things this whole time!? She would probably go crazy!

"Hetty, please, tell us: why did you do this to Callen?" – She asked, trying to give her a change to make them understand her reasons.

The operations manager frowned, just staring off into space and not moving. How to explain her motivations? She had never ever intended to hurt the boy. Yes, for her, he was 'her boy'. She had known him since he was just five years old, although this was one of the things Callen didn't know. It was her fault he'd had to move from foster home to foster home. It had been her getting him out of the system in the first place. Back then, this seemed like the only option available for her to keep him safe, and she had to admit, she hadn't really thought about how this would affect him. It had seemed more important to keep him hidden and _alive_, to tell the truth. She figured if the Comescus couldn't find him, he'd be all right. Sadly, life had again proved the old saying true, which went: 'the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry'.

Realizing the others were still waiting for an explanation, Hetty shook herself out of the memories and said:

"Because I thought I was doing him a favor. It was the mistake of a foolish old woman."

"Sorry, but I don't understand." – Deeks pressed. – "How could you believe it was good for him not to know…?"

"Because, Mr. Deeks, some knowledge can hurt more than the lack of it…" – Came the cryptical answer that didn't make things any clearer to Callen's teammates at all.

"But what could be so horrible about G's past, Hetty? Were his parents serial killers or what? It can't be anything to do with him, he was just a little boy after all when they died."

The tiny woman didn't seem to hear him though as she mused, murmuring to herself:

"I wanted to find him a loving family so much…" – Actually, _she_'d wanted to _be_ that loving family, but she wasn't ready to admit that yet; she'd probably never be.

Having finally determined they'd never get the answers they were seeking, the team members left one by one, deciding to spend their time with trying to find their missing injured friend.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"We tried calling all the hospitals, giving Callen's description but we came up with nothing." – Eric reported.

"No John Does, not any of his aliases…" – Nell continued. – "We also tried security cameras, in case he really doesn't want to be found and forbade the hospital to answer questions regarding him… Still nothing."

Sam looked ready to pass out.

"So, that means he's out there, alone and injured, and not even seeking medical attention? He's crazy! What about the Comescus? Have you come up with something?"

Eric, glad to finally be able to say something positive, nodded.

"We identified all the hitmen Callen and you guys killed." – The pictures appeared on the screen showing all necessary information. – "They were just that; hitmen. No real connection with the Comescus. According to their call records and bank accounts, they were hired the day after Vasile Comescu entered the States with a tourist VISA." – He stopped for the effect's sake, showing a picture of a short-haired, bearded man about whom nobody would suspect to be an assassin just by looking at him. He just seemed so… normal.

Nell read the file out loud she'd found on the man.

"Born in 1970, Romanian citizen, never been here before." – She quoted. – "He's got a clean record."

"That just means he hasn't been caught before." – Deeks said confidently. – "Nobody becomes a killer overnight."

"That's true." – Sam agreed. – "But he's too young to have been personally involved in the family feud. He's G's age." – He pointed out.

Kensi shuddered.

"Family legacy, I guess…"

"Seems so. Anyway, we need to find him, and fast. As long as he's out there, G's life is in danger. Eric, put out a BOLO for him."

"On it."

"Let's prepare."

With that, the team left for the Armory to gather all the necessities for the 'war' they were ready to fight for their missing friend.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"Henrietta, I came as soon as I heard. Do we know something?"

If the operations manager was surprised to see their guest stroll up to her desk, she certainly didn't show it.

"Hello, Leon. Make yourself comfortable. A drink?"

"Forget the formalities, Henrietta. Have you found Agent Callen?" – A heavy sigh and a pregnant pause followed, during which the concerned director of NCIS dutifully lowered himself into the proffered chair and took a glass of water from his host. He couldn't believe one of his best agents was missing and hunted! And while seriously injured at that… He hadn't even told Gibbs yet, because he knew the man adored the younger agent and would be devastated. He might even do something stupid, come to think of it. It wouldn't be the first time for the senior agent to risk his job and life for the younger one. They had all heard the stories… But this time, Leon Vance was the director and he sure as hell wasn't about to let things get out of hand! He took a sip from the water and cleared his throat pointedly. – "So. Callen?"

"We still don't know, Leon…" – Hetty admitted sadly. – "We are doing everything we can but you know Mr. Callen. If he doesn't want to be found he can become a ghost."

"Why would he not want to be found by you?" – The director inquired with narrowed eyes. – "As a matter of fact, why hasn't he sought you out for help yet?"

"We had an argument yesterday, Leon. Now, he hates me, and he's not going to ask for my help. I know him, he's too stubborn. And because the team's here, with me, he's not going to ask for his team's help either."

The director, who usually had everything under control, just blinked in confusion.

"Whatever could be this serious that the man doesn't trust you to save his life when he's being hunted by his archenemies?"

Hetty slumped even deeper into her seat.

"He doesn't know who's hunting him. I never told him about the Comescus… When I tried to talk to him yesterday, he got angry at me for not telling him his story sooner. He didn't listen."

"Jesus."

"Yes. Now he's out there. Alone, injured and in danger. And I can't help him even though that's the only things I've ever wanted to do."

It was evident the woman was beating herself up about what had occurred and whatever happened to the young man, she would blame herself for it. Maybe even rightfully so, though Vance was sure she'd really had the best intentions. He would be blind not to notice how much she loved the errant boy who always got into trouble and was probably the reason her hair had started to lose its color before time…

"Tell me everything." – He instructed and prepared himself for the inevitable difficult journey into the lead agent's mind in order to find him before the would-be-killer could.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

The team was on its way to an address Eric had come up with, to check if Camescu had really been there, when the horrible phone call came.

Sam answered it, and Nell informed him of the news:

_\- The first findings of the CSI team are back… Sam… They say that Callen lost so much blood, if he didn't get medical attention like _very_ quickly, he's most likely passed out by now._

Damn!

"What is it?" – Deeks inquired, having heard the ex-SEAL's exclaim.

Sam shook his head in desperation.

"We need to find G!"

Kensi and Deeks nodded, having a good idea what had upset the man so much. They all feared time was running out.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

"Kid, you look horrible."

Ever since Agent Fornell had taken to calling Callen 'Kid', the NCIS team leader had been meaning to tell him to stop it. The only problem was, he didn't think he could open his mouth without a scream escaping, so he decided to glare daggers at the man instead. Sadly, it didn't have the desired effect, as the FBI agent only chuckled seeing his effort. God, he was losing his touch…

"Grr…" – Callen groaned with difficulty, before passing out altogether.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

When they arrived at their destination, it was still dark in D.C., as it was very early in the morning. Fornell had managed to shake the injured NCIS agent awake just enough so that he wouldn't have to drag the man himself ('you don't expect me to carry you over the threshold, do you?'), but he still had to support most of their combined weight as they exited the aircraft and slowly and awkwardly walked down the stairs to meet the welcoming committee.

"Jethro, a little help here would be nice…"

Together, the two senior agents managed to maneuver the young man into the nearby parked car and stepped back to let Ducky have a look.

"Jesus, Jethro. Who is this boy and why isn't he in a hospital?" – The ME scolded while examining the newcomer as well as he could inside the small, confined space. – "He has at least one broken bone in his wrist and I'm sure some of his ribs are cracked. Possibly his ankle as well. He needs X-rays and he has to be checked for internal bleeding and-"

"A hospital is not an option, Duck. Not yet, anyway. Do what you can for him."

"Jethro, you do know I'm a pathologist, right?" – The ME reminded his old friend. – "I have neither the relevant expertise nor the necessary equipment to treat someone who's in such a poor condition. This is not just a small concussion we're talking about! I'm surprised he's made it this long, to tell you the truth."

"Duck, he's being hunted and we don't know by whom or why. You can see with your own eyes what happened. Admitting him to a hospital, even under a false identity, could place him into even more danger. We don't know whom to trust; right now, not even the director knows he's here. His team doesn't have a clue either. You can't tell anyone and we can't ask anyone for help. Sorry, but you'll have to do your best and we'll have to hope it's enough…"

Fornell looked grave at the revelation; during their talk the young man had neglected to mention to him just how much trouble he was in.

"But who is he?" – The ME pressed. – "What 'team' are we talking about and what does the director have to do with this?"

"He's NCIS, just like us." – Gibbs said simply.

"He's from LA." – Fornell added helpfully.

"Oh! You mean dear Henrietta Lange's team? But I thought I knew everyone over there…"

"Not him. He's a ghost."

"Apparently… All right then. Before he literally becomes one, let's get him back to Autopsy. I'll use whatever I can to properly examine him."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

Callen violently jerked awake when he first felt something sharp stab his wrist, followed by an incredible white-hot pain that made him believe he was being tortured for information by some unknown enemy.

"Damn!" – He screamed.

"I'm sorry, my dear boy." – Someone soothed, and a cool, wet cloth was immediately placed upon his forehead.

Callen, though he appreciated the effort, didn't feel any better, since his wrist still pounded painfully.

"What the hell?" – He demanded weakly, coming to the conclusion that this probably wasn't a torture session; at least, none of his previous torturers had ever apologized for causing pain.

"I need to set your broken bones so that they can heal properly. I gave you painkillers, but… Well, I don't really have strong ones. It's not like I need them." – The man chuckled. – "My usual patients never complain anyway."

Callen, for lack of better idea, nodded as if this made perfect sense, which it really didn't, and looked around in the funny room. He could see a bunch of equipment he didn't recognize, some unidentifiable drawers that disappeared inside the wall and another metal bed just like the one he was lying on next to them. Agent Fornell and Jethro were standing a bit farther away, watching him with concern evident in their entire stance, while the old man who was treating him stared at a screen, studying his bones, trying to come up with the best way to set them right. He was also 'hmm'-ing and 'aha'-ing sometimes, never explaining himself.

"Where am I?" – The young NCIS agent asked another two agonizing jerks later. The place didn't quite look like a hospital and Callen was getting increasingly suspicious about his surroundings.

Surprisingly, it was Gibbs who volunteered to answer his question.

"This is the NCIS Headquarters in D.C."

"Your headquarters is Frankenstein's lab in a cellar? And I thought ours was the most ingeniously hidden office…"

Fornell laughed out loud, Gibbs just shook his head and Ducky smiled in understanding.

"Can't blame him. He hit his head hard…" – He explained to the others. – "Anyway, my boy, this is Autopsy. The other parts-"

"AUTOPSY? You mean, on this table, you usually dismantle corpses!?" – Callen tried to sit but was forcefully pushed back.

"You stay still, G. I mean it. Don't undo everything Duck has accomplished already."

"But, Jethro, _dead bodies_!"

"_You'll_ be a dead body soon, if you don't stop squirming."

This had the desired effect, so Callen stopped fighting and sulked quietly for a while. He contemplated his options but with his mind still fuzzy, he couldn't come up with anything that might work. The only thing he knew was that he didn't know what to do, and that scared him. Never before had he felt like the whole world had turned against him, but ever since learning that Hetty – HETTY, for God's sake! – had been lying to him for _years_, he just didn't know anything anymore.

Callen didn't trust easily. As a matter of fact, Callen mostly didn't trust – period. And when he did, it was always tentative and shaky. It really didn't happen often that he trusted someone enough to let down his guard around them; actually, Hetty was among the very few that had been in this group. Had been. Not anymore.

The young agent sighed dejectedly, and this time, it had nothing to do with pain. At least not the physical kind.

"Is your name really 'Duck?'?" – He asked the doctor who was currently prodding his throbbing ankle, trying to distract himself from his dark thoughts.

He received a warm smile in return.

"Dear, dear, where are my manners!? I haven't even introduced myself yet: I'm Doctor Donald Mallard. Everyone calls me Ducky."

"Donald Duck?" – Callen chanced.

"Just Ducky, if you would, my boy. And you?"

"I'm… just a nobody." – What was it with everyone calling him either 'Kid' or 'Boy'? He wasn't so young anymore! He's always known things were run differently in the D.C. office but he had certainly never expected it to be this different.

"He told me his name was Michael T. Campbell." – Fornell supplied.

Gibbs gave a loud snort at that.

"Really? A Michael? Couldn't you come up with something more fitting? Maybe something with a G?"

"And what, pray tell, would be 'fitting' for me?" – The young agent challenged. – "Say something with a G."

The ME and FBI agent were watching the two friends banter with awe. They'd never seen the strict team leader this relaxed with anyone before; this young man must be something special, they decided.

Gibbs contemplated the question for a moment before smiling mischievously.

"Gregory."

"NO!"

"Why not? Gregory Callen… Greg Callen. Doesn't sound bad."

"Forget it, _Leroy_."

"Touché."

The argument had also served as a successful distraction, during which the medical examiner finished cleaning/stitching/bandaging Callen's numerous cuts and bruises and injured limbs. He'd even put the cast on the young man's wrist.

"This has to stay for at least five weeks. Maybe six. Control X-rays will tell." – He informed the grimacing patient with an apologetic shrug. – "You did break it. I'm just delivering the bad news; don't kill the messenger."

"Right. Thanks."

"You're very much welcome, my boy. You know, you're my first living patient in a very-very long time, if we don't count the minor things I've treated over the years. Fascinating… It gives a certain kind of satisfaction to see something actually heal and get better. Maybe I should do this more often."

"Doctor Mallard?"

"Call me Ducky."

"Ducky then. Just an idea: next time you treat someone who's alive, don't forget to give them some kind of warning before using the scalpel."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

By the time the group was ready to go, the office had filled with people starting their day. They were still brewing the morning coffee or reading the paper though, so it wasn't overly difficult to slip by them unnoticed. Injured or not, Callen was still the best undercover agent ever to grace the agency after all, with his skills intact.

This way, nobody gave them a second glance as they moved through the crowd and towards the main gate. When they were about to exit the building, the security guard warmly greeted Gibbs, apologetically asked for Fornell's FBI badge ('I'm so sorry, you know, it's protocol') but never even looked at Callen who just moved past him as if he weren't there at all.

The FBI agent couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore.

"How the hell did you do that!?" – He demanded to know, annoyed by the fact that _he_ had to show his ID every time he set foot in or out of the building even though everyone knew him by name.

Callen smiled knowingly at Gibbs.

"You just walk confidently." – He said.

"That's it? 'Walk confidently'? If that worked, I wouldn't have to wave around my badge each time I come here! Besides, who can walk confidently with a limp like yours!?"

"Tobias, just leave it. I told you he's a ghost." – Gibbs patted his friend's shoulder comfortingly. – "If it makes you feel better, no one else can do it. That's why he's the best."

"No, it doesn't make me feel any better." – The other man murmured. – "So, where are you going now?"

Gibbs turned to his guest.

"I was thinking about taking you to my house. You can stay as long as you want."

"But-"

"No 'buts'. Until you heal completely, I won't hear any arguments."

"Okay… Thank you, Jethro."

"And you will tell me in detail everything that's happened with Hetty and your team."

Seeing no other choice but to agree to his savior's terms, Callen nodded and let himself be guided by the two older agents to his temporary residence.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

Sam couldn't sleep, he just kept tossing and turning the whole night, even though he tried to keep it down so that at least he wouldn't disturb his wife, and ruin her night as well. It didn't work.

"Honey, what's wrong?" – Michelle asked at around four AM. – "Are you sick?"

Sam shook his head tiredly.

"I'm worried about G… I don't know where he is, how he is… Is he in trouble? Cold? Scared? Just how badly is he really injured? It looked horrible on the screen when we watched the recording. Why did he run? I don't know how to help him if he hides from me!" – He burst out in frustration. – "Doesn't he know he can trust me?"

Michelle hugged her husband tightly.

"Dear, you know G. You told me a hundred times: he's a lone wolf. If there's trouble, he doesn't want to pull anyone into it. He will try to solve it himself. I'm sure he trusts you, he just doesn't want to be a burden."

"But he wouldn't be!"

"I know that. You know that. Maybe he doesn't; running away and hiding from everyone is his default setting."

The NCIS agent growled angrily.

"Well, he's really stupid then! We've been partners for _years_! He should know by now that he's not a burden and I'd like to be there for him when he needs help. He wants to keep me safe!? He shouldn't make that decision for me!" – A heavy sigh from his wife had Sam calm down a bit. There was no use keeping her up all night when they couldn't solve anything anyway. – "I'm sorry, 'Chelle. Go back to sleep."

"What about you?"

"I think if I won't be able to rest anyway then I'd better make myself useful and try to make some progress looking for that moron of a partner."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

Sam couldn't claim to be too surprised when, upon walking into the bullpen incredibly early in the morning, he found Hetty and Director Vance at her desk, deep in discussion and looking just as troubled as he felt.

"Agent Hanna!" – The operations manager exclaimed when she spotted him. – "What are you doing here? You should be with your family."

Sam stopped at her desk and regarded both authority figures seriously.

"I would like that, Hetty, but one member of my family is missing right now, so my priority is to find him before something bad happens."

"My thoughts exactly!" – Came a voice from the direction of the entrance.

"Mr. Deeks…"

"Hetty, please don't send me home. We don't leave anyone behind, do we?"

"Mr. Deeks, I wasn't about to send you home. I was trying to suggest you step aside and let your partner come in as well." – The operations manager smiled.

"Yeah, Deeks, get out of my way." – Kensi pushed her friend into the bullpen before following him. – "What!? You didn't really believe I'd just sleep at home blissfully while one of ours is out there God knows where and injured, did you!?"

"The 'where' maybe we can answer."

Everyone turned in surprise to find Eric at the top of the stairs; alert and smiling.

"Eric? What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" – Kensi inquired. – "And in pajamas…" – She added with a smirk.

"I stayed so that I could keep looking." – The young man replied defensively, suddenly all too aware of the dancing polar bears on his pants.

"And he wasn't alone!"

"Nell…"

Kensi wrapped an arm around her colleague.

"And we believe _we_ have found him. Well, at least we have a good idea where he went." – She clarified.

"G? Where?"

"Come up to Ops, we'll show you."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"DC?" – Vance repeated in disbelief. – "I came here to help and he's _there_!? That little sneaky-"

"Leon!"

"Sorry, Henrietta. But how did he get there without triggering your facial recognition software? You were running them at the airports, too, Mr. Beale, weren't you?"

Eric swallowed hard.

"Yes, Director, of course. But I can actually answer that: he's Callen."

"Huh?"

The man clearly didn't get why a name would be an answer to his question, so it was Nell who came to the aid of her friend and gave a somewhat better explanation.

"Callen has many IDs even we don't know about." – She said. – "And he's very skilled at avoiding cameras and behaving in a way nobody notices him even is he's standing right next to someone looking for him."

"A chameleon." – Sam sighed. – "Or a ghost."

"A ghost of a chameleon." – Deeks concluded with a half-smile and ignored the angry glare he received from his teammates.

"It's a combat tactic. He told me about it once." – Kensi offered. – "It's a sort of camouflage technic he applies, I mean, all the time. It's not what you would think: it's got nothing to do with green and brown dungarees that match forest foliage and dirt. It's much more basic, and yet brilliant." – The team was watching her curiously, clearly not having heard about this before. Kensi briefly wondered why she was the one Callen had chosen to confide in about this 'hobby' of his but she surely felt honored. – "He plays human perception."

"What?" – Her partner blinked confusedly.

Kensi smiled and shook her head.

"This means he deceives your mind, Deeks."

"No way! My mind can't be deceived."

Sam smirked.

"That's true. For that you'd need to have a brain."

"Haha. You're so funny."

"Miss Blye, please, continue, don't let yourself be distracted by these immature men." – Hetty instructed, very interested in what her boy had told their young teammate. It was interesting and also heart wrenching to find she hadn't been the one he'd shared this tactic of his with. Although she should have realized… this was probably how he'd survived his entire childhood.

"Well, okay…" – Kensi knew very well how difficult it must be for Hetty to listen to this but after a moment of hesitation, she continued. – "When I was new here and in a way still in training, he worked with me a lot after hours and we practiced undercover work. He told me how to hide in plain sight. If the goal is not to be seen, you can become practically invisible by being as inconspicuous as possible. your clothing cannot be colorful or in any way noticeable. That means not too flashy but also not too ragged. Just normal, everyday street clothes will do. Your hair needs to be simple. Everyone would remember your shaggy mane, Deeks."

"Excuse me-"

"You behave so that everyone will just look through you. I bet you could ask anyone who met Callen yesterday and they'd swear there was nobody who fits his description. They wouldn't be able to tell us what he wore, what he did, where he went. There are no witnesses to anything he does even though there might be hundreds of people around him. As a matter of fact: the more the better. He doesn't avoid crowds; he looks for them."

"Jesus." – Sam rubbed his face with his hands, trying to imagine what kind of childhood his friend had had to suffer to live his life with principles like that. It was one thing to be a pro at undercover work but to live his whole life this way!? It was very sad. As soon as he'd get his partner back, they'd need to have a long talk.

"When he absolutely needs to be noticed, then there's the decoy, of course." – Kensi continued. – "Witnesses will be sure they only saw a waiter, a police officer or the mail man. Nobody else, certainly not somebody who was on the run. He's never in panic, never in a hurry. He's always cool and collected. I'm telling you: we had no chance to catch him."

"But what about the cameras?" – Eric asked, still not sure he understood the concept she was talking about. – "You can't fool the computer. If he'd appear on any recordings, my program would find him!" – It was clear the young tech-genius considered it a personal offense when his beloved gadgets failed him for any reason.

Hetty felt bad for the young, indignant man, so she patted his shoulder.

"He really did avoid them, Mr. Beale." – She explained.

"But how!? There are so many of them; they're impossible to avoid!"

"Not for him."

There was nothing to say to that, so Sam turned to Director Vance and changed the subject.

"So, what do you think G is doing in DC? Who does he know there or what is there that could help him in this situation?"

Vance actually had a pretty good idea what the reason for the agent's unsanctioned trip could be but he didn't feel ready to share it with anyone just yet if they – for some unknown reason – weren't already aware of it; first, he had to make sure his hunch was right. So, instead of answering, he just 'hmm'-ed and gave the order for everyone – including Nell and Eric – to leave Ops.

"Well, that clears things up…" – Remarked Deeks sarcastically but this time, nobody scolded him, not even Kensi.

Their grave-looking operations manager left them as well, leaving the team standing alone in the bullpen in uncertainty.


	7. Chapter 6

"Hey. How are you feeling?" – Gibbs asked five hours later when a still half-asleep Callen staggered down the stairs into the basement where his host was working on his beloved boat.

"Peachy." – He lied. – "A new one?" – He asked, eyeing the upturned barque his friend furiously sanded.

"Yep."

"How are you getting them out of here?"

Gibbs heartily laughed before throwing away the sandpaper and grabbing a chair.

"Sit down, before you fall." – He checked Callen's forehead with his palm and frowned. – "You shouldn't have come down here. How will I get you upstairs again if you can't climb the stairs alone?"

"Maybe I'll just stay here. Help you with your ship."

"It's a boat."

Callen shrugged with his good shoulder then winced in pain.

"What's the difference?" – He inquired, not really interested but wanting to keep the conversation going, and well away from his well-being.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, not fooled for a second.

"A few hundred tonnes. If you don't know that, you better not touch anything."

"I'm a quick learner."

"No, with one arm, you're not." – The older of the two looked his guest up and down. – "I can't say you look any better… Did you sleep well?"

Another one-armed shrug.

"I don't sleep well. Like, ever."

Gibbs chose not to comment that but to continue his work instead with Callen sitting next to him, watching silently. While he worked, Gibbs wondered about this last piece of information. If the young man didn't sleep well, that was surely because he didn't feel safe wherever he was, whoever he was with. He swore that wouldn't be a matter here though: he would make sure the cocky agent could heal and rest and learned what it was like to have a real home.

After about half an hour Gibbs was done with the part he'd been working on and finally straightened.

"I've made dinner. Come on."

"You cooked!?"

The glare he got as an answer was enough to shut Callen up, and together they made their way upstairs, moving very slowly and carefully.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

They were halfway through the first course when Gibbs thought the time for 'the talk' had come. He set down his spoon and cleared his throat.

"So. Hetty." – Was all he said.

And it was enough for Callen to immediately lose his appetite.

"Jethro, please…"

"Sorry, G, but I had Tobias hijack an FBI jet for you, now he owes the profilers a favor which, in turn, means _I_ owe _him_ a favor."

"I'm pretty sure they owed him first so they should be even now. Don't let Fornell tell you otherwise."

"Callen…"

"Okay, okay…" – A heavy sigh. – "I found out she's been lying to me the whole time. She's known about my family all along."

Gibbs' eyes widened. Ever since the phone call, he'd tried to imagine what horrible deed could make the young man this upset and he'd come up with a few possibilities, but never ever had he suspected this. How could she…?

"WHAT? You're kidding…"

"I wish…" – Callen shook his head sadly. – "She admitted it herself."

"And what does she know? Did you learn something about your parents? Or your name?"

Another headshake.

"No. I didn't learn anything. She wanted to talk with me but I got angry and left. I needed space!" – Defended Callen his actions, even though his friend hadn't said anything. – "Anyway, I thought I'd calm down a bit by next day. It didn't happen. And then there was the attack on me… And now I'm here." – He concluded.

"Do you know who attacked you and why?"

"You should ask Hetty. She knows everything about me. Apparently, I don't have to." – Came the bitter reply.

Gibbs was a hundred percent certain the operations manager hadn't meant to hurt her agent; everyone who had a small portion of common sense could see that she adored the young man more than any other agent working under her command, even though she claimed never to play favorites.

"Why do you think she kept secrets?"

Callen gave him an indignant look.

"How the hell should I know?" – He snapped. – "Maybe she enjoys having munition against everyone. This way, she can control us. Hold the strings and move us like puppets."

"You don't really mean that, G."

"The hell I don't!"

Gibbs ignored the tone for now because he knew his friend was in reality suffering very much and not only from his significant injuries but also because the behavior of his mentor was a betrayal of trust in his eyes.

"Eat." – He simply instructed, placing another plate full of food in front of the upset man. He knew it was a special occasion for Callen to have home cooked meal; normally, he'd just eat junk food or forgo dinner altogether. The man certainly couldn't cook for himself if his life depended on it.

The delicious smell soon had its desired effect when Callen became so absorbed in devouring the roasted chicken and mashed potatoes that he forgot to be annoyed.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"Has anyone heard from Gibbs?" – Tony asked his teammates, having unsuccessfully tried to reach their leader over the phone for hours. – "He doesn't pick up and doesn't call back and he's obviously not here, where he should be, so…? Anyone?"

Tim just shook his head but Ziva exclaimed with a loud 'oh', hitting her forehead as if just remembering something:

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. He called in sick while you were talking with Abby." – Her statement was met with shocked silence during which two wide-eyed agents stared at her as if her hair had suddenly turned bright purple. – "What!? Do I have something between my teeth?"

"Boss is never sick! And even when he is, he doesn't miss work." – Tim marveled. – "This has never happened before."

"No, it hasn't…" – Tony wondered out loud. – "Probie! Ask Abby is she knows something, I'll talk to Ducky."

Tim didn't think Abby would know anything because in his opinion, she'd have told them. Also, he wasn't too keen on taking orders like that from Tony; it was bad enough that their senior field agent was the leader in Gibbs' absence, it shouldn't necessary expand to have them investigate their Boss.

"Tony, I believe-"

"Probie! Go!"

So, what else was there to do but to obey? Tim rolled his eyes at Ziva and slowly made his way to their eccentric forensic analyst's lair, secretly hoping that this way, he'd at least be out of the way when Tony decided to torture someone in boredom…

The music could be heard from halfway down the corridor as he neared and he knew Abby was in a good mood because the doors were wide open and he could see the young woman dance across the room; her steps light and playful.

"Abby!" – He called be she didn't hear. – "Abby!" – No use.

Tim went straight to the radio and turned the volume down to a more bearable level. The goth finally noticed she had company.

"Timmy! What's up?"

McGee, his ears still ringing, took a moment to gather himself enough to answer.

"Tony asks if you know anything about Gibbs?"

Abby smiled mischievously.

"Oh, I know lots about him. What do you wanna know?"

"Mostly: where he is right now and what's wrong with him?"

That was certainly an unexpected question for the young woman.

"What? What do you mean where he is? Isn't he here?"

"No, that's the problem. He called in sick."

"But he's never sick!"

"I know!

"McGee, that's serious!" – She hit his arm for more dramatic effect. – "Do you think there's a problem?" – Abby was very worried for her favorite team leader, since Gibbs was like a father to her and she was sure he wouldn't just stay home because of a simple cold or flu. And certainly not without telling her himself. – "He was supposed to come here this afternoon so I can show him what I've found… He never said he wouldn't show!"

Tim winced and rubbed his throbbing arm.

"Apparently, he called Ziva, she just forgot to tell us."

"Ziva? ZIVA? Why wouldn't he call ME?"

"I don't know; don't hit me again!"

"McGee, don't whine! Have you tried calling him? Maybe I should… I will! I-"

"Tony has been calling him all morning, Abbs. He won't pick up."

"He will for me." – Abby said confidently, fingers already dialing the number she knew by heart. She put the phone on speaker so the two of them could listen to the first ring. Then the second one. Then the third… By the sixth ring, Abby threw her cell angrily onto the desk and rounded on her friend. – "I don't understand! He always speaks with me. _Always_!"

"I hope he's not really sick…"

"The only way to find out is to go and visit him!" – The goth suggested, already taking off her lab coat to exchange it for streetwear. – "If he's not feeling well, we need to help him!"

McGee on the other hand wasn't so sure about this plan.

"I don't know…" – He said uncertainly. – "He could rip off our heads for bothering him…"

"Don't be silly! Come on!"

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

In the meantime, Tony wasn't having more success with Ducky either.

"Are you absolutely sure he hasn't tried to contact you? What if he's really not well and needs medical help?"

Ducky was busy cleaning some equipment the senior field agent hadn't seen before in Autopsy and wasn't even looking at his visitor when he sighed and repeated for the third time:

"Yes, Anthony. I'm sure. Jethro hasn't tried to contact me about him being sick." – He said, not quite lying. Gibbs hadn't called him about _his own_ injuries or sickness after all.

"But… Have you ever known him to stay home because of sickness? It must be serious!"

"If it were serious, you'd know about it." – Ducky reasoned, before trying to change the subject. – "Ah, Mr. Palmer! Would you be so kind as to put this back to its place?"

"Yes, Doctor." – The young assistant grabbed the equipment and looked at it in awe. – "What did you need this outdated X-ray machine for? I mean, we haven't used this dinosaur for ages…"

"Not important, Mr. Palmer, just put it away, please." – With that, the old ME left the two younger man alone.

Tony turned to Jimmy.

"Hey, why is it so strange that he used this… whatever this is?"

"It's an old X-Ray machine; we use it to examine hands, feet… just smaller parts of the body, because it's light and portable. I don't remember having to use it in a long time."

"Oh…"

"Of course, they have more use of a device like that in an actual hospital."

Tony's head whipped up.

"How so?"

Jimmy smiled, happy that he could provide information that caught the older agent's attention, especially since it, for a change, had nothing to do with the cause of some gruesome death.

"Because you find and fix broken bones with it or-"

"Wait! You said 'broken bones'?"

"For example. Obviously, we don't usually do that to bodies here. Unless it's a meat puzzle but then it isn't bones we need to fix. And-"

"Autopsy Gremlin! You're a genius!" – Having said that, Tony ran toward the elevator, already dialing, leaving a stunned Palmer staring after him in confusion.

_\- Tony?_

\- Tim, where are you?

_\- Abby and I are about to pay a visit to Gibbs. She's worried._

\- Wait for me, I'll just grab Ziva and we'll be with you soon. I believe Boss is not sick. He's injured…


	8. Chapter 7

As soon as his phone signaled the arrival of an SMS and he saw the sender had a hidden number, Gibbs knew he was in trouble.

"Shit."

"What"? – Came the half-asleep question from the couch where Callen had nearly fallen asleep after dinner. He himself couldn't explain it but the 'I-don't-sleep-just-take-twenty-minute-catnaps'-man didn't seem to be able to stay awake for more than a couple of hours at a time. According to Gibbs, this was because he was entirely exhausted and his body screamed for rest. According to him, though, it had something to do with he sleeping pills his host had secretly smuggled into his tea. They still hadn't come to an understanding about the matter and Callen, for his part, was currently too weak to hold his own in the fight anyway. – "Something wrong?"

"The director wants me in MTAC."

This woke Callen immediately.

"Do you think…?"

"Yes."

"Then 'shit' indeed."

"Aha."

"Well…" – The LA agent shrugged, faking nonchalance. – "Took them long enough."

Gibbs looked at him in disbelief.

"It wasn't even an entire day."

"They're my team; they're good. What else did you expect?"

Chuckling, the older agent pushed the younger one back into a horizontal position.

"Just rest. I'll be back right afterwards."

"You'll tell me, right? I mean… No lies and secrets for 'my own good'? Please?"

Leroy Jethro Gibbs could be a bastard sometimes and he knew that very well, but at that moment, seeing the normally strong, confident and even cocky agent so lost and frightened, he felt his heart break into a million pieces. He knew at that second he wouldn't regret his decision to help him, no matter the consequences. And he swore he'd have a talk with Henrietta Lange one day about what she'd done to the boy…

"No, G. No more lies and secrets. I promise I'll tell you everything."

"Even if it's bad? Even if you think I'd be better off not knowing?"

"Even then."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

"Good…"

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"He's going to kill us. He'll eat us for dinner. He will fire us and make sure we'll never get jobs again anywhere near any agency, unless it's cleaning the premises." – Tim chanted as they walked up to Gibbs' porch. – "He will shoot at us and he won't miss, 'cause once a sniper always a sniper and then he'll-"

"McGoo: shut up and knock."

"Oh, so you're not afraid?"

Tony headslapped Tim, causing the younger man to yelp.

"A DiNozzo is never afraid, Probie."

"Then why don't _you_ knock on the door…?"

Even though the three agents and one forensic scientist had all come up with the plan to visit their Boss together, right now none of them was very sure this had been such a good idea.

"Because I'm the senior field agent and I'm telling _you_ to do it." – Tony concluded finally.

Ziva rolled her eyes.

"Both of you are so bathetic!" – She said.

"You mean: _p_athetic?" – Abby guessed.

"That too!" – Ziva snapped. – "I will do it!" – She confidently strolled to the door and moved her arm but stopped in inch before actually reaching the wooden barrier… - "Ahm… Maybe we should come back later? I mean, it is early, he may still be asleep…"

"It's half past two in the afternoon." – Abby reminded her before pushing her to the side and immediately knocking on the door. The three agents gave her a half-frightened, half-awed stare. – "What? Gibbs loves me, he won't hurt me! The three of you_,_ on the other hand-"

At that moment, the door opened and a battered young man with a huge cast on his right wrist, a bandage on his forehead and a noticeable limp stood there as if he belonged there.

"Who the hell are you?" – Tony burst out without thinking. He hadn't seen this man before and he didn't understand what he would do in their Boss' house.

"Callen!" – Abby squealed in delight and jumped into the man's arm, causing him to wince. – "Oh, sorry. G, why didn't you tell me you were visiting? And how's Eric? Is he here, too?" – She tried to peer into the house over Callen's shoulder as if expecting the young geek to materialize from the shadows.

"Sorry to disappoint but it's just me this time. Come on in."

As he followed his colleagues on his way into the house, Tim patted the other agent on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Man, you look like crap. What happened?"

"Just a small… accident." – Callen grinned while everyone took a seat in the kitchen. – "And you are Special Agents Ziva David and Anthony DiNozzo, if I'm correct."

"So, you know who we are. Great. We still don't know who you are."

"Come on, Ziva! I told you about him! He's G. Callen." – Blank stares followed Abby's revelation and she sighed. – "Special Agent G. Callen? From the L.A. office!"

"Oh! It's _you_!"

"What do you mean, Agent DiNozzo?"

"I mean, it's you the Probie here and Abby were so excited about! I thought it was largely exaggerated but they painted you as a hero. And now, look: here you are, and you're just an agent, like any of us. And not a very good one, are you? Not larger than life at all. You also needed to be clumsy to get these injuries…"

"Tony!" – Abby hissed, totally baffled at her friend's behavior. – "Where are your manners?"

Callen only smirked to himself at the other agent's attitude. He had heard a lot about Anthony DiNozzo over the years from Gibbs, so much so, that he felt like he knew the man even though they hadn't met before. He wasn't taking offense in Tony being territorial, he was aware how insecure he really was in his somewhat father-son relationship with the team leader.

"I can assure you, Agent DiNozzo, that I am no hero." – He said in the end. – "I am an NCIS agent, just like you, working in the LA office under Henrietta Lange." – Well, technically, he was still an agent in LA. He hadn't heard about being fired yet, though if he wasn't mistaken, this would change by the time the owner of the house would be home. He wasn't sure he minded anymore…

"Aha… And what are you doing here?"

"I'm a guest. And what are _you_ doing here?"

It was Ziva who answered, nearly as cold and rigid as her partner.

"We are looking for Gibbs. Do you know where he is?"

"MTAC. The director wanted to talk to him."

"That can't be, _Geeee_ Callen, because we just came from Headquarters and he wasn't there." – Tony said, mocking Callen's name.

"Well, you must have missed him then." – The LA agent said calmly, not taking the bait.

"We don't miss anyone, _Geeee_. We're agents. VERY special ones."

At that, Callen cracked up, not caring about how it hurt his abused chest.

"Agent DiNozzo: you miss more than you'd ever imagine."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Find out for yourself."

"I'll show you-"

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" – Came the booming reprimand from the entrance where Gibbs was standing, with his arms on his hips and looking for all the world like a menacing enraged dragon.

"We've got visitors." – Informed him Callen brightly.

"You mean Gibbs has visitors." – Growled Tony in irritation. – "And I can see only one who shouldn't be here to begin with: you!"

"DiNozzo! Is there a reason for your presence?"

"Yes, Boss." – Seeing the team leader's strict expression, he swallowed. – "Ahm… Probie, tell him!"

"What?" – McGee squeaked. – "Well… I… ahm… Ziva?"

"Gibbs, it's not what you think. I told them you phoned! Tony didn't want to believe me!"

"Zivaah! No, Boss, it was Abby who was worried and wanted to come here to check up on you."

"Tony, it's not nice to lie! Timmy came to talk to me about your worry to begin with!"

"Boss, they're just-"

"SILENCE!" – Everyone flinched aside from Callen who was, much to Tony's frustration, obviously quite enjoying the show.

"So, this is your famous team?" – The LA agent asked grinning once everyone quieted. – "Impressive. And I thought I had it difficult with Deeks. I'll have to appreciate him more in the future, I guess." – Not that there would be a future for him, mind you…

Gibbs just sighed at that and it angered Tony even further: had he spoken out of line like that, he'd have gotten a headslap hard enough to make his ears ring. What was so special about this man that caused his boss to behave so uncharacteristically civil with him!?

Meanwhile, Abby couldn't hold herself back any longer.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" – She ran to him and waited for her usual kiss. – "I was so worried when I heard you hadn't been at work today… Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Abbs. you shouldn't have worried."

"It's just that you never miss work, Boss."

"I know, McGee. Something came up."

"You mean: someone?" – Ziva corrected, glaring daggers at Callen. – "He's a bit far away from Los Angeles." – She observed and it was clear she had really meant to say he was _too_ far and should go back as soon as possible.

"_He_ is right here." – Callen said without looking overly bothered by being talked about as if he were a clueless child.

"That's exactly the problem."

"Tony! Don't be like that with Callen! He was welcoming and nice to me when I was visiting."

"You were kidnapped by a maniac serial killer when you were there, Abby."

"True, but he and his team saved me."

"Well, he shouldn't have let you be taken in the first place, should he?"

"DiNozzo!"

"Boss…?"

"Shut up. Listen here: I've taken a few days off for personal matters. During that time, I want you to do your work like always. DiNozzo is in charge."

The twin groans from David and McGee caught Callen's attention: what exactly was their problem with the senior field agent being in charge when the team leader wasn't around? Wasn't it how things usually worked here? He surely couldn't imagine Kensi or even Deeks reacting to Sam this way and he knew he would never ever allow it either. Gibbs didn't seem to have noticed though, or at least he, to Callen's immense surprise, didn't address the insubordination at all, not even when DiNozzo turned towards him as if asking for help. Certainly interesting…

"But-"

"I'll call you every day, Abbs."

They all knew it was fruitless to argue; their leader had made the decision to leave them on their own and he would do it no matter how much they tried to change his mind. So, they all said their goodbyes (in Tony and Ziva's case with a somewhat evil air) and went back to Headquarters to finish their tasks, leaving Callen to silently ponder about everything he had just been witness to.


	9. Chapter 8

"Your team is lovely." – Remarked Callen nervously as soon as it was just the two of them again. – "Especially DiNozzo and David. They're really nice. Friendly even." – He said, voice laced with barely concealed sarcasm.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"No problem… So…?"

Gibbs motioned for the injured agent to sit down before grabbing a chair himself. He tried to come up with the best way to approach the conversation but couldn't think of anything that could make the things he was about to reveal any better, so he just took a deep breath and started.

"Naturally, Vance wasn't impressed with us." – That was, actually, quite an understatement. The video call with their director currently residing in LA had started like this…

"_Gibbs…"_

"_Leon?"_

"_Is there something you want to tell me?"_

"_Plenty. But I don't think you'd want to hear any of them."_

"_Don't you get smart with me! Not now!" – It was clear the Director wasn't in the mood to play nice. – "Is he with you?"_

"_Leon-"_

"_And don't even try to pretend not to know whom I'm talking about!"_

"Okay, it was expected they'd figure it out…" – Callen nodded, honestly not really surprised, though he'd hoped his team would try to call him first to give them the heads up. – "Don't worry, Jethro, I'll tell him it's all on me. He can fire me, I don't care but I won't pull you down with me."

"He doesn't want to fire either of us."

Callen looked up in disbelief.

"No? But I took off without permission…"

"And helping you was my own decision. You didn't hold a gun to my head but that's not the point right now. I managed to convince him…"

"_Do you have any idea what someone like Agent Callen is capable of if he goes rogue?" – Vance asked almost in panic. – "He's the best undercover agent we've ever had, and he has history with the FBI, CIA and DEA. Not to mention numerous foreign secret intelligence agencies… He speaks a dozen languages and could go anywhere without detection. Any country would gladly take him since he knows Government secrets and weaknesses. He turns on us and I don't even want to think about the consequences."_

"_You don't believe he'd become a traitor! Leon, come on! He's just hurt and needs time to come to terms with being lied to by someone he trusted! Can you even imagine what it must be for him to not know his own name? And then it turns out the one person who's known him for years, who he's been working for, who's been almost a mother has been keeping secrets about his past. I would flip out, too."_

_The director averted his eyes, knowing very well his agent was right._

"_But if he can't trust Hetty anymore, then what? You remember the time when he was working under Lara Macy, right? It was debatable who was really in charge around here. And I'd gladly give him the position, to be honest, he could become the operations manager right now if he wanted to, but he doesn't. And if he doesn't, we need someone else to do it. And then he needs to cooperate with that someone. I don't have any more candidates; people are afraid of working with him! He has a reputation…"_

"_Just let me deal with it, okay? Give me a few days. He's injured, he needs help, he won't go anywhere."_

"_Jethro… After he was shot _five times_ he left the hospital without telling anyone. The team was looking for him for a day before they found him in another crappy motel room. His partner was shouting so loud that the guests in other rooms complained and the management threw them both out. They also wanted to sue; it was a disaster to smooth over. And do you think Callen cared? No, he didn't, he was off the grid right after that again. I don't know what would have happened if Henrietta hadn't stepped in to stop the nonsense."_

_Gibbs lowered his head. He actually hadn't known that. Just how scarred was that young man that he thought he had to flee from the hospital after nearly being killed!? Didn't it ever occur to him to turn to his friends!?_

"_It's my fault I wasn't there for him then." – He looked up again; determination shining in his eyes. – "But I am now and I'm not going anywhere. He. Will. Be. Fine. You'll see."_

"_Well, I hope you're right. I really do. But if you're not…" – Vance looked long and unblinking into his agent's eyes, trying to make him understand. – "I really, really don't want to have to give the order, Jethro."_

"Cute…" – Callen said, pretending not to be hurt. He failed miserably. – "So, now what? I'm your little pet project? A stray you want to rescue from himself and now you're all going to wait and see if it works or not?" – He spat bitterly.

Gibbs had been completely honest with the man just like he had promised to be, but right now he didn't know if he had done the right thing. G. Callen was broken and feeling betrayed by everyone and this admission about the director's worries certainly hadn't helped.

"No. You're my friend. Someone I care about deeply and I want to help you." – He answered in complete honesty. – "You are going through a very difficult time, G, with Hetty, with the attack… with everything. Give yourself time to adjust and then you'll see what you want to do. It's your decision."

"It didn't sound like I have much of a choice, do I though? I either be a 'good little agent' and go back to LA to work for Hetty like an obedient lapdog, or I can be hunted down by my own people."

"NO! That's not what he meant!"

Callen snorted.

"Oh, yeah. What exactly _did_ he mean then? Because to me it sounded like I can expect to be shot down by Kensi, smothered to death by Sam or even talked into an early grave by Deeks-"

"It's not like that at all! Look, I told the director…"

"_I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Leon."_

"_Pretend all you want, Jethro, just answer me this: if it ever comes to that, can you contain him?"_

"_Yes, I can." – Gibbs answered immediately with as much certainty as he could muster._

"_Good." – The director's demeanor immediately changed and he suddenly looked older and more vulnerable. – "You should see Hetty. She's a wreck. As are his partner and other teammates. I don't think he understands how much people care for him."_

"_Would you, in his situation?"_

_Apparently, Vance had nothing to say to that because he changed the subject._

"_You keep him in DC and take care of him until we catch whoever tried to kill him here. That's the least we can do. By the time he comes back, this will be a safe city for him again, I'll personally make sure of that."_

"_Thanks, Leon."_

The Los Angeles agent shook his head bitterly.

"Great. Now I feel like a charity case…"

"No. NO!" – Gibbs grabbed his guest's shoulders, mindful of his injuries, and shook him gently as if to wake him up. – "Listen: everyone needs help sometimes."

"Even you?"

"Yes. Even me."

Despite this admission, the young man seemed to pout.

"Well, I still don't like it. I want to take care of my own problems!"

"You think you could defend yourself right now?" – Gibbs inquired.

"Of course I could! I always can!" – But the glare from the other man quickly wiped the grin off his face. – "Okay… Maybe not as well as normally…"

"I wouldn't think so, with just one working arm, one good foot and a concussion."

"It's not that bad…" – Callen muttered under his breath but his expression betrayed the words.

Gibbs only answered with an 'Aha', then ushered the young man into the guest bedroom and instructed him to rest a bit before dinner. He even locked the front door probably for the first time ever, thinking it would be safer this way for the injured agent.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"I want to know everything about that _Geeeee_ Callen." – Tony declared, having crept up behind McGee unnoticed by the younger agent and by doing so giving him quite a scare.

"Jesus! Tony, don't do this, you're giving me a heart attack!"

"Probie! Concentrate: find me everything there is to know about that Callen." – Tony repeated. – "I don't like how confident he seemed in Gibbs' house."

Tim sighed in frustration.

"Tony, I told you already: Callen is all right. He's an NCIS agent, just like us, he works in LA, and the Boss knows him from before."

"You mean from when you were there?"

"No, before that."

"From where and since when?"

"I don't know!"

"Then investigate!" – Tony hit the table hard to make his point, and shook his head. – "I really have to explain to you everything…"

"I don't think we should."

"And just why not?"

At that moment, Ziva, who had just watched them silently before, joined the conversation.

"Because Gibbs would kill both of you?" – She suggested.

Tim nodded in agreement but Tony shook his head.

"He doesn't have to know. We're just looking out for him. I can feel that this man is up to no good…"

"I agree." – Ziva assured her friend; she wasn't very keen on the Californian agent either. – "But Gibbs always knows everything we do and will go burstic."

"Word's 'ballistic', and you're confusing the Boss with Santa Claus."

"Except that he never wears red, he doesn't hand out presents and is way more frightening…" – Tim muttered under his breath.

Tony pointedly ignored his younger friend and continued trying to persuade the two.

"Gibbs will be grateful if we save him from being robbed or attacked by a maniac." – He reasoned.

Tim was getting exasperated at his colleague's childish behavior.

"They are _friends_. He's an agent. Come on, guys! Forget it!" – He really didn't understand what was wrong with his teammates; they all knew Gibbs could take care of himself. Nobody would be foolish enough as to try to attack him in his own house that was surely stocked with hidden weapons everywhere, and Callen wasn't there to cause trouble anyway. Well, hopefully. So, what were Tony and Ziva worrying about!? Oh, hell… - "Okay, okay!" – He relented, seeing their threatening glares. – "I'll snoop around. Discreetly. But if we get caught, I'll deny even knowing anything about this!"

The almost evil grins Tony and Ziva exchanged didn't go unnoticed.

'_Just great…'_ – Tim thought to himself, shaking his head, resigned to his fate.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

Nell and Eric were presenting everything they had on the missing Comescu to the team when a loud shrilling filled Ops. The noise was so sudden and deafening that everyone quickly covered their ears, trying to block it out as much as possible, fearing for the safety of their hearing.

"Jesus, what's that?" – Deeks shouted.

"It's an alarm I set." – Howled Eric back at him, trying to be heard over the blaring. – "It alerts me when someone tries to access one of your files."

He pressed a few buttons and the wailing stopped. While everyone was recuperating, Hetty stepped closer to the young intelligence analyst.

"So, somebody hacked us?" – She asked.

"No." – Nell shook her head. – "Somebody _tried_ to hack us." – She clarified.

Eric continued, quickly checking the system.

"It seems like whoever it was, they tried to access Callen's personal information."

"But you're sure they didn't manage, right?" – Sam wanted to establish there wasn't any more danger to his partner out there than what they already knew of and were working to eliminate.

"No." – Nell confirmed. – "They were good. But we're better."

"I want to know who they are and if this has anything to do with the Comescus." – Hetty instructed and the two geniuses quickly went to work.

It didn't take the 'Evil twins' more than ten minutes or so of combined effort to find the source of the snooping.

"Ahm… Hetty?" – Nell started when it became clear Eric wouldn't be able to open his mouth. – "It's not Comescu…"

"That's great news, MIss Jones. But who is it then?"

"Well…"

"Well?"

"Washington."

Kensi gasped.

"What? The Government?"

"Actually…" – Eric, who had finally managed to find his voice, explained. – "The IP address belongs to an agency. An alphabet agency."

"Which one, Mr. Beale?"

Eric and Nell exchanged glances, before they said in unison:

"NCIS."


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9.**

"I'll have it soon... I think…" – Tim said after Tony and Ziva had questioned him for about the third time when they'd finally get the information on Callen.

"You said that half an hour ago." – Ziva complained.

"I'm sorry I can't hack a Government agency's database quick enough for your liking, guys!" – Tim snapped, annoyed at the whole situation. – "Are you even aware that it's illegal and we could get into serious trouble over this?"

"_We_?" – Ziva blinked innocently. – "_You're_ doing it, not us."

McGee opened his mouth to answer but Tony shushed him quickly.

"All right, Probie. Chill. Nobody will know. We'll just take a quick look around, try to find out how Boss knows him and what he's really up to. That's it."

The youngest agent rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"What would he be up to!? He's just visiting a friend!"

"He's a trained undercover operative, Tim. He could be here for a number of reasons. The LA office isn't like ours. Abby told me about them: they handle cases nobody else wants. They go undercover like we go for groceries and shoot before asking questions." – Ziva contemplated the matter for a while. – "Actually, that's not so bad… Anyway: you can never know with them, so he could be apparitional even now!"

"Term's 'operational'. But she's right. That's what we need to figure out."

The computer whiz just sighed and continued working on the codes he still needed to crack in order to get what they wanted.

After about five more minutes he was ready to tear all his hair out one by one.

"It's impossible!" – He burst out. – "His file is better protected than Pentagon's secrets!"

Ziva's eyes widened.

"That's not a good sign, is it?"

"No, it's not." – Mused Tony. – "McGeek has hacked all of our files a thousand times, it's never been a problem before…"

"It's different with Callen's though. It's like he doesn't even exist. I'm not sure he _has_ a file…"

"Every agent has a file." – Tony insisted. – "Just keep looking."

Ten minutes later they were still not nearer to their goal than before.

"I can't believe this!" – Ziva groaned.

"I think we should-" – But they never learnt what Tony thought they should do, because at that very moment the screen changed to show a foreign, half-lit, high-tech place with blinking monitors and a small albeit very intimidating elderly woman with huge glasses sitting on her nose staring at them strictly. – "Aaargh!" – The senior field agent screamed as he jumped half a meter into the air in fright. – "What the-?"

Tim knocked his entire lunch off the desk in his haste to roll farther with his chair, while Ziva blinked in surprise, not quite able to find her voice. She had never ever seen anyone this… this… she didn't even know WHAT.

"I hope I'm not late for the party, young lady and gentlemen." – The strange woman said very slowly, staring each of them in the eyes while she spoke.

"Ahm…" – Tim tried. – "I… well…" – He looked toward his teammates for help but received none; they were both just as flabbergasted as he was.

"Are you trying to say something, Mr. McGee? Because then you should open your mouth properly; I can not understand you like that."

"I… ahm…"

"And why are you gaping like a fish out of water, Miss David? Surely, you had bigger surprises than my unannounced appearance at Mossad, didn't you?"

"How do you-?"

"Mr. DiNozzo, I was expecting better from you. Hacking NCIS database!? Ts, ts, ts. Would your boss be happy about that?"

Tony swallowed hard at the mere mention of Gibbs finding out about their little snooping around.

"No…" – The strange woman gave him a positively threatening glare. – "I mean… no, ma'am. He wouldn't be…"

"Don't you 'ma'am' me! My name is Henrietta Lange, I'm the operational manager of the Los Angeles office of NCIS. The man you're trying to hack is _my_ agent." – She explained sternly. – "And I do not take lightly to my men being put into danger out of curiosity or outright stupidity. I could even consider it treason."

All the Washington agents furiously started to shake their heads and began to talk at the same time, defending their actions.

"No, of course not, ma'am! I mean-"

"We wouldn't think of it!"

"You can't believe-"

"ENOUGH!" – The woman bellowed angrily. – "I believe I made myself quite clear about what I will do to you if you don't stop your investigation right now."

"Very." – Tony nodded as he reached up with a hand to wipe off the sweat that suddenly appeared on his forehead.

"Good."

With that, Henrietta Lange, operational manager of the Los Angeles office of NCIS was gone, leaving three trembling agents in here wake.

It took McGee nearly a quarter of an hour to find his voice again.

"I… I guess we should just forget about this whole thing." – He suggested shakily. – "Try to pretend nothing happened."

Ziva snorted and Tony gave him an exasperated glare.

"Ya think so, McGoo?"

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

Gibbs watched as his charge 'rested' on the couch, which meant he was sleeping soundly – finally. Callen had fought tooth and nail against lying down, probably because he'd known he was tired and would fall asleep. In the end, exhaustion had won out though and he all but collapsed.

Now, the older agent only hoped nightmares would stay far away from the house this time around. For some reason, Callen and sleep just weren't a good match at the best of times; not to mention at occasions like this.

He could still remember old times when his friend had been just an untamed little foal; wild, angry at the entire world, ready for everything and anything. They were both in Moscow at that time, working together even though they had just met and hadn't known each other that well yet. They also hadn't known if they'd make it out alive or not, and Callen hadn't seemed to care either way. That had worried Gibbs to no end, and he'd payed special attention to his companion to make sure he wouldn't do anything foolish enough to get himself or even both of them killed. The United States and its protection had been far away and they'd only had each other to rely on, so Gibbs had tried to get closer to the obstinate young man…

"_Hi. Mind if I sit?" – Gibbs asked, pointing at the spot next to the young, barely-old-enough-to-be-here, short-haired man who was staring into the campfire as if it held all the answers. Everyone else had already gone to sleep but not this young man. He always remained out here, alone, not caring about the darkness and the cold. Nobody understood him so no one bothered him either. The others mostly just pretended he didn't exist and it seemed to be fine with him._

_Very fine, indeed. He hadn't been expecting anyone to talk to him, so he looked up in surprise at the newcomer, regarding him for a moment with distrustful eyes before shrugging and scooting over just a little bit, making place for another man on the dirty log that served as a makeshift bench._

"_Sure. Why not?"_

_Gibbs nodded his thanks and took the proffered place. They sat next to each other for a while, both deep in thoughts, neither talking. During this time, the older soldier did his best to read the younger one, without being too obvious about it and yet staying vigilant. Clearly, he failed miserably, because suddenly the young man started to laugh, and he jumped in surprise._

"_What?" – Gibbs asked, irritated at being caught at unawares. It certainly didn't happen to him often._

_The boy shook his head and spoke with mischievously sparkling eyes:_

"_So, what did you find out?" – He asked, and Gibbs wasn't foolish enough to pretend not to understand._

_Again, he felt angry about being this obvious but there was nothing to do about it now, so he just shrugged._

"_Not much. You're a lone wolf. Very skilled. Lonely. Angry." – He surmised. _

_The young man sighed, all the signs of playful banter gone from his stance._

"_Why would I be either?" – He asked, staring into the fire again. _

"_Well, for starters, you don't talk to anyone."_

"_Maybe I just don't have anything to say." – The boy argued his point half-heartedly._

"_Maybe. But I don't think so. I believe you just haven't found anyone worth talking to." – He didn't wait for an answer as he continued. – "You're very young. Younger than either of us, and yet you're here. Clearly, you've been sent for your skills."_

"_Or the agency found me expandable." – Came the reply again._

_Gibbs didn't take the bait though._

"_Again: you don't talk to anyone. You stay out late here alone. You don't sleep. You don't socialize."_

"_Why would I? We're here to work, not to have a frat party. If I wanted that, I could have gone to college."_

_Gibbs shook his head in exasperation._

"_You don't seem to care."_

_The boy snorted._

"_What's there to care? Some people are lucky to have a loving family and a nice house to live in, some aren't. If we aren't lucky, we can at least make sure those who are can have a safe life at home. That's why we're here. So: we are expandable. Some more than others. Me: very much so. End of the story."_

_Leroy Jethro Gibbs had seen some burned-out soldiers over the years but he had never expected to find someone that young already having lost all his belief in the good of the world. It was sad. Speaking of age…_

"_How old are you?"_

_Somehow, this question seemed to make the young man uncomfortable._

"_Ahm… Twenty?" – It sounded more like a question than a statement, so Gibbs just gave him a doubtful glare. The boy didn't seem old enough to be out of high school yet and he most certainly wasn't twenty. – "Nineteen…"_

"_Aha…"_

"_Eighteen." – Another glare. – "Well, I'll be in a few months!"_

"_Jesus." – This young man… no: boy! was twenty years younger than him and Gibbs already felt closer to him than anyone else in the whole camp. How pathetic… - "What's your name?"_

"_What's yours?" – The boy challenged defiantly, causing Gibbs to laugh out loudly. Yep. He liked the guy._

"_I'm Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Nice to meet you."_

_The boy blinked._

"Leroy Jethro_?" – He repeated indignantly. – "Did your parents hate you?" _

_This should have angered him, Gibbs knew, but somehow he found the boy more and more interesting instead._

"_No, but they were certainly in humorous mood when they chose my name." – He admitted. – "So, what's yours? Were your parents more considerate?"_

_The boy's face darkened again._

"_I wouldn't know." – He said._

"_How so?"_

_There was a shrug and a long silence during which both watched the flames' comical dance as they chased each other in the campfire. And when Gibbs was sure the boy wouldn't answer anymore, he was surprised once again._

"_G. Callen. And before you ask: yeah, it's just G."_

"_Okay…"_

_The older one had already decided not to press the matter, but it seemed like 'G. Callen' had things he needed to get off his chest now that he'd started to talk, probably for the first time in a very long time. Maybe ever._

"_No one, and I mean it: not ONE of my thirty-seven foster families felt the need to enlighten me about my own name, can you even imagine that!? Not the authorities. Not even that tiny woman who came out of nowhere to 'rescue me from myself' and to meddle in my life 'for my own good' and appears to be all-knowing! No matter how much I asked, or BEGGED to be told. They didn't!" – He ranted and his normally clear-blue eyes darkened to the point where they looked completely black. It was frightening to watch. – "They never told me who I am, where I come from, who my parents were… nothing. You see, Jethro!? I'm a NOBODY. With no past, no present and certainly no future."_

_The boy panted tiredly at the end of his tirade and swept at his face with an irritated motion, only now realizing he had angry tears running down his face. He seemed embarrassed at the finding and turned his face away from his companion he had unconsciously called a name not many dared to use._

_Gibbs, for his part, wasn't concerned about names at all._

"_And what about school?"_

_Another sarcastic snort._

"_School wasn't for me."_

"_Relatives?"_

_A sad little headshake._

"_No relatives."_

"_Friends?"_

_A honest surprise in the glance he received at the question broke Gibbs' heart._

"_Who would want to be my friend!?"_

_Gibbs smiled and held his hand out for the boy to shake._

"_Me. It's nice to meet you, G. Callen."_

That had been the first time they spoke and it was the begin of a wonderful friendship. The age difference didn't matter because Callen was way older in mind than his real age and he was also a lot smarter than he let on. Leaving school didn't mean he was not skilled enough to learn; his whole life he had just pretended to be stupid so that people would underestimate him. Gibbs suspected his 'undercover skills' had been carved at a very young age and for that he would always blame the system that had let this poor boy suffer so much.

Also, as he'd later learned, some blame would and should fall on Henrietta Lange, even though Gibbs also appreciated the difficult situation she'd been in at the time she'd had to make some very hard decisions. Of course, he didn't know half of it.

Maybe now things would change. Maybe after this fiasco, his friend would finally get some peace of mind.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

About a week and many chess games/card games/talks/crime novels and crappy TV-shows later Calen was feeling and looking much better and Gibbs was supposed to go back to work. The older agent knew his friend could take care of himself now but he was still worried.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right here by yourself? I could call in saying I've got a family situation or something…"

"Family situation?"

"Well, yes. _You're_ family so if I'm staying here with you, it's a family situation."

Callen could feel his eyes sting after that declaration but he still shook his head.

"Jethro, please! I'm not a little child. I can take care of myself." – He insisted. – "I might have a broken arm, but I'm not an invalid, you know."

"Did I say you were? I just don't want you to get into trouble while I'm away. I happen to like my electronic devices the way they are." – Said Gibbs, referring to the fact that Callen famously liked to dismantle everything he found when he was bored. And he was always bored when he wasn't working or otherwise occupied.

Clearly, Gibbs was still hesitating, unsure of what he should do: honestly, while he didn't have much valuable things in his home, he was quite fond of his age-old television and the small microwave he owned.

The younger agent rolled his eyes, probably reading his friend's thoughts like always from the very beginning of their friendship, and sighed, having already come up with a solution that could work for the both of them.

"Fine. Take me with you then."

"What!?"

"Well, I'm NCIS, just like you. There must be something I can do in the office…"

Actually, this didn't sound as bad as it first appeared. Indeed, Callen was a skilled agent who not only excelled in the field but was also a real asset when it came to coming up with theories and connecting dots of information to come to important conclusions about the case. The team could use his help and he, in turn, wouldn't turn the house into a no-go zone in just a few hours. A win-win situation for everyone.

"Fine."

Even Callen himself seemed a bit surprised at the easy agreement.

"Really?"

"Really. If you can be ready within five minutes."

"I'll only need two."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

This time there was no sneaking into the building without anyone noticing; much to Callen's dismay Gibbs insisted he register at the entrance and get a visitor's badge like every normal person entering the premises.

"This is ridiculous! I'm an NCIS agent; not a visitor." – Lamented the young man, tearing at the nametag that was now firmly fastened on his sweater for everyone to see. – "That's embarrassing!"

"Hey, leave that there! I know you're an agent but you don't have your badge. You don't even have your real ID; you do remember you're in D.C. as Michael T. Campbell, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. How could I forget it? It stands on this damn thing-"

"Well, we don't have an agent with that name, so: Keep. It. There." – Hissed Gibbs as they entered the elevator along with three giggling women from Accounting.

They immediately started seizing Callen up and whispering among themselves, causing Gibbs to groan and the visitor to smile mischievously, by now not minding his outsider status so much anymore.

The lead agent couldn't have been happier to finally reach their level when the elevator doors opened and he all but pulled his reluctant friend out.

"He! I was having a conversation!"

"Is that what you call the drooling those two were doing and your disgustingly superior smirk? A 'conversation'!?"

"A nonverbal one, sure."

"I'm feeling nauseous."

"What's wrong, Jethro? Jealous of all the attention _I'm_ getting from the ladies?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Sure, if believing that makes you feel better…" – He motioned for Callen to follow him into the bullpen where he came to a halt between four desks facing each other. – "This is our workstation." – He explained. – "You know McGee from LA, and you met David and DiNozzo in my house. Abby works in her lab. You also know Ducky's lair."

"Oh, yeah. I do." – Callen had to wince at the mere memory of his visit with the good doctor and he rubbed his cast to soothe the phantom pain he felt just by remembering that time in Autopsy. – "And I don't want to go back there anytime soon."

"Tough. You're scheduled for a check-up later today."

The injured man blinked.

"And you were going to tell me about this… when exactly?"

"I'm telling you now."

"Cute…"

Their easy banter was observed with morbid curiosity by the three agents sitting at their respective desks who all couldn't believe their boss could ever be this… normal… and human… with anyone. For them, this was utterly unfathomable.

"Ahm… Boss?" – Tony interrupted them, drawing their eyes on himself. And although most of the time he liked being the center of attention, right now he felt very uncomfortable being in the same room as the person who was under the protection of that frightening little elf of a woman. – "You all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be all right, DiNozzo?"

The headshakes and handwaves trying to stop their teammate from saying anything that might have a nasty end weren't lost on either Gibbs or Callen; the latter was even trying hard not to laugh at their panicked expressions when Tony – the only person who didn't seem to understand the warning – answered his boss' question.

"Well, you look… different."

The silver-haired agent raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"How so?"

At this time, Ziva was nearly falling out from behind her desk trying to catch the senior field agent's attention and Tim had buried his face into his palms so that he wouldn't have to witness the unavoidable explosion.

"More relaxed. Calm. _Nice_…"

"Are you trying to say I'm not always nice, DiNozzo?"

"NO! I mean: no, that's not what I'm saying."

"Then what?"

"Ahm…"

"Jethro, don't mock the poor man." – Callen sniggered at the horrified expression DiNozzo gave him upon hearing him call their boss by one of his dreaded first names they'd mostly only heard authority persons or very close friends use before. – "I'm sure he didn't mean any disrespect."

"Aha…"

"So…" – Callen took a look around. – "_Orange_, hmm?"

"Yep."

"No wonder they thought I was more suited for LA…"

Actually, it had been Jenny who had thought that. The whole thing had begun when she had decided she wanted Callen to work for them…

"_So, what do you think? Headquarters or some other city?"_

"_Huh?" – Gibbs' mind was occupied with their latest case that was also his reason for seeking out the director in her office in the first place. He didn't understand where her question had come from as it had no meaning in context of their current investigation. – "What do you mean?"_

_Director Jenny Shepard, always elegant, well-dressed, calm and collected, rolled her eyes and most assuredly didn't pout as she asked:_

"_Jethro, have you been paying attention to what I've been telling you these last ten minutes?" – In reality, he hadn't. He had been running all the details in his head they'd gathered about the suspect so that he could give her a full report and; hopefully; get her to agree to their less-then-by-the-book plan. – "I didn't think so…" – She sighed tiredly. – "I was telling you about G. Callen." – She repeated._

"_Oh. What about him?"_

"_You do know him, right?"_

"_Yes, of course. But what about him?" – Gibbs repeated, annoyed that he couldn't just talk about what he'd come to discuss. He spoke with Callen regularly, so he doubted he'd learn anything new from Jenny about his friend anyway._

_She rolled her eyes._

"_I want him to come and work for us. I asked where you thought he'd like to be stationed."_

_Gibbs' eyes widened in shock. _

"_Callen with NCIS? He wouldn't last a week in this office!"_

_Jenny looked like she wanted to say 'duuh' but then held back with difficulty._

"_I thought so, too. That's why I'm asking what you think he'd like."_

"_But he's with the FBI." – The lead agent pointed out. – "I doubt he'd like to come here."_

"_He doesn't like the FBI. He's thinking about moving on."_

"_And you know that how?"_

"_Come on, Jethro! Everyone knows it! Every agency wants him and whenever he's getting restless, we're trying to get him. Now, it's my turn!" – Gibbs was sure she would have stomped her feet, hadn't she been too proper to do that. But she was close._

"_Okay… why don't you ask him then?" – It seemed to be the obvious thing to do but apparently, at least judging by her expression, this had been a stupid question._

"_I'm asking _you_ now. I've asked Hetty."_

_Of course, Gibbs knew about Henriette Lange; Callen had told him a lot about her. They hadn't met, not yet, but the lead NCIS agent had his own opinion about how she had handled a 15-year-old, confused and hurt G. Callen. An opinion that wasn't too favorable for her, per se._

"_And what did she say?" – He inquired, curiosity finally spiked._

_Jenny averted her eyes._

"_Not much. She doesn't want him to come and work for us. She wants him to have a 'normal' life. Whatever that means."_

"_And she's right. Boy's been through too much already as it is."_

"_But Jethro, people like him can't bear 'normal'. He'd be bored out of his mind on his second day!"_

_That, sadly, was true, Gibbs couldn't deny it. Callen hadn't chosen this life – this life had chosen him._

"_All right… Well, I think he would like…"_

In the end, an entirely new office had been built (_'I've been thinking about opening a new office on the west coast anyway.'_) according to the concept of what they thought Callen liked and needed and the result was something totally different from a 'normal' workplace and certainly didn't resemble the Washington DC headquarters in any way.

Gibbs smiled at his friend.

"No, no wonder indeed. Come on, I'll give you a tour."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

As soon as Gibbs and Callen left the bullpen, Tony turned to his teammates.

"Did you _see_ that!?" – He asked.

Ziva nodded.

"Yeah. Incredible! He _smiled_!" – It was evident she really couldn't believe what they'd just witnessed. – "Who's that man!? And why does Gibbs like him _more than us_?"

"I told you: they're friends."

"All right, McGoo, we can see that now, too. But what I want to know is: how do they know each other and why are they such good friends? I mean, this Callen is much younger than the boss, so they couldn't have been soldiers together. They can't have met at school or whatever. Their families can't have been neighbors and friends. So what?!"

"And I told you I don't know! Why are you so interested in that anyway? Who cares _why_ they are friends? They _are_, that's a fact."

"Because, Tim, like I said: he likes him better than us!" – Ziva repeated. – "And that's _appealing_!"

"It's 'appalling', but Ziva's right. It's outrageous. We are his team; we take his orders, his barks, his head slaps… What does that man do!? Nothing!"

"Guys…" – But Tim had to admit, he was becoming more and more convinced: really, had any of them been half as cocky with the Boss as Callen had just been, they'd have been head slapped into next week, he was sure of that. And still, after the warning they'd received not so long ago, he really didn't want to get into any more trouble. – "Let's just try to forget it, all right? I'm sure Callen is just visiting and will be going home soon. Then everything will be back to normal again…"

Tony didn't look too convinced and neither did Ziva when she nodded and said doubtfully.

"All right. We'll see then…"

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"Your team is not happy about my presence." – Callen observed while they were walking toward Autopsy for the dreaded check-up. – "I believe they want me to disappear as soon as possible."

"Do I look like I care what they want?" – Gibbs groaned, knowing very well his friend was right. He would need to have a talk with his people about their behavior and mostly: he would have to find out the reason behind it all. He was absolutely certain McGee; the only one of the three who had actually met Callen before; had never had anything against the man, while the others didn't even know him. So what was their problem!?

"They're jealous." – Callen explained, again answering a question that hadn't yet been asked. – "Because they think you're nicer to me than to them."

"That's stupid."

"Is it?" – The LA team leader knew very well what his old friend could be like and he'd also seen the glances the team members exchanged. Callen wasn't blind and he also wasn't stupid. He had never understood why Gibbs behaved differently around him than when he was with others, but it was true. For one, the older man never ever slapped him. Of course, Callen wouldn't let him, either, but he'd never had to fight about this because Gibbs had never tried. Also, they bantered like equals and yet, they respected each other infinitely. It was evident the three agents had realized from the very beginning that Callen had a different relationship with their boss than them. And they didn't appreciate it.

"Yes, it is." – Gibbs insisted and this time, Callen decided to humor him. For now, at least, because he had other things to worry about.

Like the eager ME and his grinning assistant who were both standing there, waiting for them with… a huge syringe!? What the-?

"Ah, our only living patient has arrived!" – Ducky exclaimed brightly. – "Please, hop onto the table right here next to our poor John Doe and let's begin!" – Deliberately misinterpreting Callen's horrified expression, he quickly added: - "Don't worry, he won't mind sharing the place."

The evil laugh from Gibbs made Callen rethink his previous assessment about the man being nicer to him than others.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11.**

"My boy, you're healing nicely."

"Great…" – Murmured Callen, wincing when his lower left arm throbbed where 'torturer number two' who called himself a medical assistant had stabbed him. Repeatedly.

Jimmy, who had for the first time ever drawn blood from someone who was actually alive, smiled proudly at his mentor.

"Doctor Mallard, look. I did it at third try!"

Callen muttered 'at fifth, more like' but nobody payed attention to him.

"Very good, Mr. Palmer, very good indeed. Now, next time try to be a bit more gentle when inserting the needle into a living person but good job nonetheless."

Callen's groaned 'no kidding' was again ignored.

"How is his arm, Duck?"

"Oh, it's still in place and the bones are starting to mend." – The doctor pointed at the X-ray picture to demonstrate his medical opinion. – "You can see how compared to last week's state his wrist is so much better now."

"Indeed."

"Mr. Palmer?"

"Ahm…" – Jimmy seemed surprised to be addressed but quickly recovered and began: - "Well, his ribs have healed completely. The stitches can all be removed now as well. But the ankle needs at least another week. Maybe two…?"

"Very good, Mr. Palmer. So, remove the stitches."

"Doctor?" – Jimmy squeaked in surprise.

"What!?" – Callen exclaimed at the same time.

"Ah, boys, come on, it's not such a big deal!"

"Hey! It's about MY stitches!"

"And about my _career_! Doctor, if I accidently kill him-"

Callen narrowed his eyes.

"I'll kill you first!" – He whispered dangerously. – "I can shoot with my left hand and I never miss!"

Palmer gulped loudly.

"Ahm… Doctor, maybe you should-"

"Nonsense, Mr. Palmer! The barking dog… you know. Come on: do it!"

Jimmy tentatively stepped closer and started to lift Callen's T-shirt to start his administrations but the reluctant patient grabbed his arm tightly and whispered in an undoubtedly menacing manner:

"Don't forget: people who are alive can actually feel pain! They can also 'accidently' hit you in the face." – He warned before letting go of the frightened young assistant's arm and lying back on the table to let him do his work.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"You are cruel!" – Complained Callen about half an hour later when he was leaving Autopsy with Gibbs at his side who had quite obviously enjoyed the show just a tiny bit too much. – "You should have stopped him before he cut up my stomach!"

"It was an accident and happened very suddenly, how should I have foreseen it? Besides, he did say he was sorry…"

"Jethro!" – Callen cried indignantly. – "Now I required new stitches because he butchered up the removal of the earlier ones!"

Gibbs smiled.

"He'll learn." – At his friend's loud swearing, he added helpfully: - "You're at fault, too, you know. You shouldn't have moved about so much. He's used to working on cadavers and I believe it's needless to say they don't usually squirm." – Everyone else would run screaming the other way from the deadly glare Callen gave his friend at that, but the older agent only patted his Los Angeles colleague's shoulder in a calming way. – "Aw, you can choose either a green or a red lollipop for your good behavior at the doctor's, G."

Callen pouted.

"I want both."

Gibbs sighed theatrically and threw his arms in the air showing he had been defeated by his friend.

"Fine, whatever."

They had just arrived back into the bullpen, so their interaction was witnessed by the three agents working at their desks and Abby who was standing in front of Tim's workplace.

"Callen!" – She gave him her usual enthusiastic greeting, clearly not noticing her friends' dark expressions at the display of affection from their boss directed at the newcomer who, in their educated opinion, shouldn't even be there at all. – "How are you? Are you feeling better now? Do you need to sit down? Tony, give your chair to G, can't you see he's injured!?"

Nobody could make out Tony's muttered response but judging by his expression, perhaps it was better so. Callen, quickly deciding not to try his nonexistent luck anymore this day, just shook his head and smiled at the Goth.

"Nah, I'm good. Just a bit sore, thanks to one Jimmy Palmer. I'm sure the promised lollies will make me feel much better." – He winked for good measure, annoying the others even further.

"Yes! I LOVE lollipops! Maybe we can get some together! I love black ones that paint your tongue and the blue ones that have a hidden bubblegum in them and those yellow ones that explode in your mouth and…" – She gently grabbed Callen's uninjured arm and pulled him away from the others, towards her Lab, all the way chattering about everything and anything she could think of, happy to finally have her friend all for herself.

That left the Major Case Response Team alone for the first time in over a week and feeling suddenly a bit uneasy.

"Boss…"

"Yes, DiNozzo, what is it?"

"Can we get lollipops, too? OUCH!" – He winced at the head slap he got. – "I guess that's a 'no'…"

"DiNozzo, I want to know what's going on!"

"What do you mean, Boss…?"

"I mean: what do you have against Agent Callen? And that goes for the two of you as well!" – He added, seeing Ziva suddenly engrossed in some files and Tim preparing to leave unnoticed. – "I want answers and I want them now!"

"Well…"

"It's not like…"

"I mean we don't…"

"It's not him…"

"Boss, you know…"

"Maybe we…"

"All right! One at a time! I can't understand anything in this chaos. DiNozzo!"

"Yes, Boss."

"You tell me. The others will get their chance to speak, too, so don't even think about sneaking out, McGee."

Tim reluctantly sat back down and everyone turned to Tony to listen to his reasons.

The only problem was: Tony didn't really seem to know what to say…

"Ahm… You know, Boss… It's just like… I mean, we feel-"

"Gibbs!" – Came a call from the catwalk where Director Vance was standing. He had just arrived back to DC the day before and apparently, he wanted to talk to his lead agent. Right now.

Gibbs sighed.

"All right. Don't go anywhere, either of you!" – He warned before making his way upstairs.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"What is it, Leon?" – Gibbs asked as soon as they were in the director's office. – "I was giving the team a chewing out and I don't like being interrupted while doing it. It ruins the effect."

The director smiled mischievously at the mental image of three trained NCIS agents cowering in front of their team leader.

"I'm sure you can still scare them to death when you get back." – He concluded. – "I wanted to ask about Agent Callen. How is he?"

Gibbs sobered immediately.

"Physically, he's getting better, though still very sore. His broken bones won't mend so fast of course, and his ankle needs more time, too. But I'm more worried about his mental state." – He admitted. – "He feels betrayed by the one person he trusted with his life. That would be a blow for everyone but for him…"

"For him, it might be the last straw." – Vance finished grimly. – "It's a disaster. Yes, I know. But _how_ is he now?"

There was no way to 'misunderstand' the question anymore.

"I believe he, despite everything, misses Hetty and his team." – Gibbs admitted. – "He's restless. Conflicted. And bored."

"A bored Callen is a dangerous Callen."

"Normally yes." – Gibbs looked the director in the eyes. – "But I've got him under control. You don't have to worry about him."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

Vance studied his agent for a while to see if he was really honest. Upon deciding there was no immediate danger, he sighed.

"Good. Because Henrietta wants to talk to him."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why? You just said he misses her."

"Yes." – Gibbs agreed. – "And I believe it's best if he misses her some more. Wound's too fresh." – He said with a meaningful flash of his eyes. – "But I'm sure he'd like to talk to his teammates."

"That can be arranged. But Henrietta won't be happy about being left out; she's worried about 'her boy'."

"Well, she should have been worried _before_ lying to him and keeping secrets."

"Right. Send Callen up to MTAC in an hour. I'll have his team on screen for him by then."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

Fetching Callen from Abby's lab wasn't easy, since the two of them had shut themselves in and couldn't hear the knocking because of the blaring music. Gibbs was used to this from Abby but he couldn't even begin to imagine how his normally quiet and withdrawn friend was able to bear the volume. Upon finally entering with his own secret code nobody but Abby knew he had, he found them huddled over a microscope, shouting to each other so that they could be heard over the rhythmical drumming.

"See how they move?" – Abby asked excitedly and Callen checked before nodding.

"It's fascinating! What are these?"

"Escherichia coli."

The Los Angeles agent blinked.

"Bless you."

"They're bacteria!"

Callen made a face.

"I stand corrected: that's plain disgusting."

"Come on, G! They're _cute_!"

"That's not exactly the word I would use…"

But Abby didn't seem deterred.

"They're my favorite kind of bacteria! They're beautifully rod-shaped, they're found in the lower intestine of warm-blooded organisms and the cells are able to survive outside the body for a limited amount of time!" – Not seeing the desired effect in her friend's eyes, she added: - "That makes them potential indicator organisms to test environmental samples for fecal contamination!" – The excited exclamation she had expected still didn't come and Abby opened her mouth the explain further but Callen was saved from having to listen to any more disgusting details about feces and bacteria when Gibbs decided to intervene.

"Hey, you two."

"Gibbs!" – Abby screamed which resounded in the suddenly silent lab as the lead NCIS agent turned the music off. – "Look what I've got here! It's Esch-"

"Sorry, Abbs, it's really fascinating, but I have to steal Callen for a while."

She stuck out her lip in a cute pout.

"I was just about to show him how to breed them-"

"Okay, I think that's my cue to leave! It was nice being with you, Abby. I'll come back later." – Callen even obeyed when she held her cheek out for a kiss, even though he never even kissed Kensi. He wondered what was happening to him here and if he should worry about the changes he was going through…

"We'll see you later, Abbs."

"So, where are we going?" – Callen asked as soon as they were in the elevator. – "Or did you just come to rescue me? It's not that I'm not grateful if you did, I mean, I'm not sure she didn't want to _infect_ me with those things just to see what they would do…"

"You do know that we all always have bacteria in our intestines, right? She really wouldn't have to infect you with anything-"

"Jesus, Jethro! I'm going to puke!"

"Now, some other types of , on the other hand… They can cause diarrhea-"

"Grrrrr! See, she _could _infect me then if she wanted to!"

The hearty laugh Gibbs gave would have surprised Tony and he'd have surely said it was very uncharacteristic for their boss to be this carefree.

"Nah. She wouldn't do that." – A pause. – "Okay, maybe she would."

"Great…" – Callen rolled his eyes. – "Now I'll have nightmares."

"You can't have nightmares, G. For that, you'd have to actually sleep."

"Neat. So, where are we going?"

"MTAC."

"What for? I thought visitors weren't allowed in there."

"You're not a visitor. You're an NCIS agent."

"I'm not sure your team would agree…"

The older agent gave him a calculating look but decided not to press it. For now. They had just gotten out of the elevator and walked toward the stairs with the team's eyes following them all the way until they disappeared into MTAC.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12.**

When Gibbs and Callen entered MTAC, they found Vance standing in the middle of the room, facing the enormous screen that showed…

"Sam!?" – The Los Angeles team leader exclaimed half-surprised, half-delighted. – "How…?"

"Jesus, G! How are you? Why is your arm in a sling?"

"Ahm… a cast, actually. Broke my wrist, no big deal." – Callen shrugged. He didn't understand why but he felt like his throat was suddenly too tight to swallow. He almost didn't notice Gibbs and Vance exiting the room in order to leave him alone to his call and give him a bit of much-needed privacy. – "How are you all?"

"We're good. Kensi and Deeks will be here soon. Eric and Nell are here…" – He stepped to the side to let the two come into view.

"Callen! We miss you!" – Nell immediately said, eyes suspiciously bright. – "We were so worried… Oh, God, you look so injured…"

Eric nodded.

"We need you here. When will you come home?"

"Ahm… I don't know yet…" – A few minutes ago he'd been sure he'd never go back. However now he wasn't so certain what he was thinking at all… - "I miss you guys, too." – He admitted. To be honest, he missed them so much it physically hurt, so why hadn't he realized that before!?

At that moment, Kensi and Deeks entered Ops. He saw both of them break into a huge smile and run toward him.

"Callen!" – Kensi shouted.

"Man, hey! Ahm… are you all right? You look…"

"Injured, I know." – Their team leader grinned. – "I'm getting better. So, Kensi: how are you holding up with him the whole day without me running interference between you two?"

"You can't even imagine how much I have to suffer!"

"Hey, I'm standing right here, you two!" – Deeks tried to look hurt but he failed when he smiled again. – "Listen, you really need to come back though. This one here…" – He pointed at Sam. – "… is no fun when he doesn't have his partner. He's just moping around all day!"

"Keep it up, and I'll show you _mopping _around. I will literally mop the floor with that messy hair of yours!" – Sam promised darkly. – "G, we're looking for the man who did this to you. We will find him and by the time you'll come home, this city will be a safe place for you again."

Again, that damn lump in his throat… What was wrong with him!?

"You don't need to do that. I can take care of myself…"

It was Kensi who answered.

"We know you can, Callen. But we want to do it for you."

Now he had something in his eyes. It was getting ridiculous. Callen refrained with difficulty from wiping at his stinging eyes and sighed instead.

"Thank you." – It was all he could say without his voice cracking. Maybe he was coming down with a cold, or something? Was he getting a heart attack!?

Luckily, Deeks, Kensi, Nell and Eric did the talking for all of them, so Sam and him only had to listen and nod at the right places and by the time they learnt that Nell and Kensi had had a girls' night out and the two men were frustrated at the lack of information they had about it, Callen had managed to pull himself together enough to interrupt their banter and ask:

"How is… Hetty?"

The four younger friends immediately quieted and all turned to Sam, waiting for him to say something.

The ex-SEAL looked somber.

"She's… holding up. She misses you, too. Of course, she tries not to show it to us but we can see. She's very sorry for whatever happened, G."

Callen only nodded, not trusting himself to say anything to that. He didn't want to hate Hetty; actually, maybe he didn't hate her at all. Maybe he loved her. But still, right now, he couldn't imagine talking to her or even seeing her. Not yet.

"Anyway, she's making us work overtime to catch Come-"

"DEEKS!" – Kensi poked him in the side very hard, stopping him from saying something he wasn't supposed to. – "Callen needs to rest and heal, not investigate… ahm… never mind."

"So, you know who tried to kill me? But you're forbidden to tell me? I see… More secrets." – Would she ever learn?

"No… Sorry, Callen. It's not Hetty. I just thought…"

"It's okay."

"We only know so that we can catch him, G."

"Yeah."

Nell stood straight and said very quickly.

"The hitmen were hired by Vasile Comescu, Roman citizen, born in 1970, who is currently in Los Angeles; hiding. He wants you dead because of an old family-thing that began with your grandfather and his grandfather. We really don't know anymore! Hetty does, I guess, but she will only tell _you_." – She hadn't been breathing during her speech and now she was gasping for air when she finished.

Everyone waited with bated breath for Callen to react. He blinked in confusion for a few moments before finally asking:

"How could I have a 'family-thing' when I don't even have a family?"

"G, we honestly don't know." – Sam repeated, willing his friend to believe him and understand the difficult situation they were all in.

"Do you think they have something to do with me being an orphan? Growing up tossed from one foster home to another? Without a real home and anyone to care for me?" – Now he was getting angry and desperate for information. If the Comescus had done this to him, he would kill each and every one of them with his bare hands… and that was a promise.

Nell and Eric exchanged glances.

"It's possible." – Eric confirmed reluctantly. – "But we're still investigating."

"If you find anything, I want to know about it. Everything. Right away."

Nell and Eric nodded in understanding, and Kensi added in a way that suggested she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer:

"All right. We'll tell you everything if you promise not to do anything stupid."

"I never do stupid things." – He ignored the incredulous expressions his friends were giving him, or the snort coming from Sam. – "Anyway, all right. I'm here right now, in DC, while you're in LA. What could I do…?"

"You can always come up with something, G. Just stay put and let us handle things for once, all right?"

"Okay, you get Vasile. But the rest of the family-"

"Got it."

"Good."

That was the best deal he was going to get from his team right now, Callen knew it very well; they were obviously worried about him and wanted to help, and he appreciated it endlessly, even if he wished he could get a few minutes with the Roman criminal alone – without witnesses around so that he could throttle him.

They talked a bit more before saying goodbye and disconnecting the call.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"How is your team?" – Gibbs had waited the whole day and now that they were in his home, having dinner, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind ever since the video call.

Callen, who had seemed happy and preoccupied at the same time since the talk, studied his lasagna as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"They're fine…" – He said absent-mindedly.

"Just 'fine'?" – The older agent pressed, wanting to find out what was keeping his friend's mind busy. – "That's all? You were talking to them for nearly an hour."

"Was I? I guess it was mostly Deeks doing the talking…"

"About?"

"Who knows with Deeks…"

"Okay… And Sam's kids? Did he tell you about them? I know you like them, you've told me a lot about them."

"He said they were all right."

Gibbs sighed in frustration; his plan to get his friend to tell him what he was thinking about was backfiring spectacularly. But he wasn't the most stubborn man in the entire capital city to give up that easily.

"And how are they coping with work without their team leader? Do they have any active cases right now?"

"They're investigating my attack."

Bingo… Finally!

"And…?"

Callen shrugged, his eyes still fixed in the food.

"They know who it was. They've known the whole time."

"WHAT!?" – Gibbs couldn't believe the operations manager would do this _again_ to the young man who had run away from her exactly because of her previous secrets and half-truths. – "You're kidding."

Finally, the guest looked up with a smile that looked more menacing than anything else.

"Yep. Apparently, there is some kind of old family feud I wasn't aware of, so a bunch of Romanies want me dead." – He said casually as if he was talking about the weather. – "Now a man of about my age, whose grandfather was presumably murdered by my grandfather whom I never met tried to make sure I don't live long enough to have children of my own and thus the 'Callen' family would be completely extinct." – He snorted and added ruefully. – "As if his interference would be needed for that…"

"Hey, don't say that. You can still have an own family."

Callen shook his head.

"No, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what a real family is like and I wouldn't want to ruin my own just because I have no clue what to do…"

For Gibbs, it was horrible to see that a bad childhood could have such impact on someone; his friend really didn't believe he could be a good husband and father just because he grew up in the system?

"G, it's not like that. You love them, you'll know what to do."

"I don't think so."

Maybe it was time to change the subject…

"Okay… So what do you know about this family?"

"Not much. Their surname's Comescu."

"And?"

"And that's about it."

"That really isn't much."

"Told you so. But Nell and Eric promised to tell me as soon as they find something. In exchange, I had to swear I wouldn't do anything stupid. Can you believe they think I would do something stupid?" – He asked, clearly still upset about the mere idea.

"Yes." – Was all Gibbs said.

Callen sulked for a few minutes, during which they both ate in silence. When the lasagna disappeared, the younger agent was over his pouting as well.

"Anyway…" – He continued as if nothing had happened. – "I promised to let them have Vasile. The Comescu man who tried to kill me. So, you don't have to worry about me running off to hunt. At least, for a while."

"That's good to know, because you still need regular medical attention."

The younger man groaned good-naturedly.

"Please, just not the little Mengele!" – He pointedly rubbed at his stomach where he'd suffered the unfortunate incident under the care of one Jimmy Palmer. – "I don't want to be the subject of his experiments anymore! He should stick to corpses."

"Don't be such a child, G. It's a great opportunity for Palmer to learn and for you to come to appreciate your health more." – Said Gibbs while cleaning off the table. He brushed off all of Callen's attempts at helping him, claiming he needed to take it easy, so he sent his guest to watch TV instead.

Callen shook his head fondly at his friend's concern.

"I guess I could get used to this treatment." – He muttered to himself smiling.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13.**

The next two weeks were spent resting, healing, getting examined by Ducky (and sometimes, much to Callen's utter dismay, Jimmy) and visiting headquarters regularly. Whenever he was in the office, the Los Angeles agent tried to avoid Gibbs' team as much as it was possible and spend time with Abby instead. She, at least, seemed to be honestly fond of him and happy to work together. They had solved a few puzzles and made headway in many cases, while also playing cards and various computer games. The latter had never been Callen's forte before but now he felt like he had managed to finally get the hang of it. A few times he even caught himself thinking about how surprised Eric would be when he'd show off his skills the next time they'd meet…

By now, he was feeling much better: his new stitches had been removed as well (this time, without further incident), and his ankle had gotten a clean bill of health a few days ago, too. The only remaining issue was his still broken wrist but it was also progressing into the right direction in a textbook way. All in all: everything was fine.

He hadn't heard of the 'hunt' after Vasile Comescu anymore, even though he spoke with the team regularly. Despite not being there with them, they sometimes asked for his advice, at certain occasions even instructions in the cases they worked on. Even if it was only to show that they wanted him back, he still felt incredibly proud whenever that happened. They always made sure to assure him he was still the team leader and that they missed him. In his opinion, _that_ was a real team where everyone respected the other and nobody had made it their mission to hurt the others' feelings. He loved them. So, they talked all the time and yet they hadn't spoken about the investigation of Comescu. That seemed to be a taboo. For now, Callen had decided to play along and not ask questions, especially since he had other things to worry about.

Gibbs had gone out alone to speak to a suspect a few hours ago and he still hadn't come back. According to Abby, there was no reason to think of anything bad; she'd said the team leader was most probably still 'making friends' with the criminal besides nothing bad could happen to her 'knight', but Callen wasn't convinced.

So, after weeks of avoiding them, he finally purposely sought out DiNozzo, David and McGee.

"Have you heard from Jethro?" – He asked, foregoing the pleasantries that wouldn't be honest anyway.

Tony was so surprised at the question that he just gaped like a fish, while Ziva was deliberately ignoring the newcomer. So, to no one's surprise, it was the ever polite McGee who answered:

"He hasn't called since he left in the morning to interrogate Dimitri. Why?"

"Because I think he should be back already."

At that, the senior field agent recovered his voice.

"And just why do you believe you know where Boss should or shouldn't be?" – He mocked. – "Because last time I checked, Gibbs didn't ask our permission to be out of the office during working hours."

"Because, Agent DiNozzo…" – Callen said in his most authoritative voice he rarely had to use with his own team. – "… when he's been gone for over five hours without making contact and without picking up his phone when I call him, I start getting worried something might have happened and he might need our help."

Stunned silence followed his speech, and Callen was glad to see he hadn't lost his touch with agents. As one of the youngest team leaders back in the day, he'd needed to be able to gain the respect of subordinates, even if said subordinates were (much) older than him. That hadn't been easy, but he'd always managed. Over the last years he hadn't had to bark orders anymore because his own team respected him for who he was and for his accomplishments, thus they didn't need to be 'afraid' of him to follow his lead.

To be honest, at first, he had feared he'd have problems with Sam who was, quite obviously, bigger, stronger and – as a SEAL – maybe even more experienced than him and he would, without question, also be able to lead his own team. So, Callen had feared Sam wouldn't accept him as a leader and would challenge everything he'd do just to spite him. But it had never ever happened. Sam seemed to be quite content with G giving the orders and him being the senior field agent as long as his opinion was listened to and valued. Kensi and Deeks followed both of them but they also knew they could speak their minds and have their own ideas. An ideal team in Callen's opinion.

Apparently, this wasn't the case with Gibbs' team.

"So, what do we do?" – McGee asked. He seemed to be the less annoyed of the lot with being talked to by a 'stranger'.

Callen, in full leader-mode now, listed:

"Tim, I need you to track his cell, see where he is right now. I also need eyes on him: look for traffic cams, CCTV, ATM cameras, whatever you can find. Ziva, I want to know exactly whom he went to talk to, what he wanted with him and what kind of person he is. I want to know the case, the suspects and the MO. Everything. I even want to know what kind of socks he wears and what he had for breakfast. Tony, I need you to talk to the director, get his blessings for me to take the lead and start looking for Gibbs if he doesn't appear soon." – Three confused agents blinked at him, and Callen was losing patience. – "NOW!" – Everyone jumped and ran to do as they were told, not even uttering one word of resistance. As they should. – "Oh, and DiNozzo?" – He stopped the slightly dazed agent at the bottom of the stairs. Callen tore the visitor's card from his shirt and pressed it into Tony's hand. – "Exchange this wrenched thing for my real badge while you're talking to the director; I know he's brought it with him from LA. Steal it, if you have to, I don't care, but I want to get my name back. Well, all I have of it, at least."

Tony nodded and wordlessly proceeded upstairs.

Callen watched as the team worked and decided it felt great to be needed again. Finally, he was back in the game.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"I don't know, sir. Agent Callen seems worried and while I don't particularly like him, his reasons seem valid enough to be investigated. I mean, the Boss usually doesn't disappear during the day for hours without trace… Not like this, anyway." – Tony explained to the director who was sitting at his desk and listening attentively.

"I see." – The man eventually said. – "Have your tried to reach him?"

"Ahm, no. We haven't." – Tony admitted, feeling particularly stupid. – "Callen says he tried many times though. I don't think Gibbs would ignore him; they seem to be good friends…?" – His tone of voice indicated he wanted confirmation of that fact and he watched the director carefully for any sign of denial.

But there was only a nod of agreement.

"The best of friends."

"Oh." – Tony wasn't sure if he should feel dismay, betrayal, sadness… or something. Anything. Right now, he was feeling worried. – "So, he would answer his phone if Callen was calling?"

"In a heartbeat."

"Well… He didn't."

"And what do you suggest, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Director… to tell you the truth… well…"

"Yes?"

Tony took a deep breath and said:

"I don't really have to suggest anything because Callen has already started issuing orders and taking charge." – The senior field agent still couldn't decide whether to be offended by this or not. On one hand, _he_ was the senior agent, meaning that _he_ needed to take over anytime the team leader wasn't available for any reason, as had happened on a handful of occasions in the past. That was the chain of command. On the other hand, even he had to admit that Callen was more qualified to lead a rescue mission if that was what they needed, simply because he really was a team leader, and of the special operations team at that. He had heard stories about them and knew Callen wouldn't have a problem shooting his way out of a difficult situation whereas neither him nor McGee were really used to working under heavy gunfire. In reality, he doubted even Ziva was ready for that… – "He has Tim searching for Gibbs on cameras and by pinging his phone and Ziva briefing him on the case."

"And what is your task, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Sir…?"

"Were you tasked with getting me to agree to any crazy plan Callen might have and to make him substitute team leader with freedom to do whatever he wants? Maybe even get…" – He pulled something out of his drawer and waved it around for Tony to see. – "… _this_ back from me?"

"Ahm…"

"Don't worry, Agent DiNozzo, I know Callen. Hell, I inherited a very long and very detailed file with specific instructions how to handle him from Director Shepard. Nothing he does surprises me anymore."

"Really? I mean… you won't let him? Because then I guess I could-"

"Agent DiNozzo, did I say I wouldn't let him?"

Tony blinked.

"No… not really, sir, I just assumed-"

"Never assume, agent. Agent Callen is a genius when it comes to planning and executing operations. There's a reason all the alphabet agencies want him."

"Oh?" – Not the most intelligent answer, Tony knew, but this was really news to him.

"Here, take this." – The Director tossed Callen's badge at the surprised man who caught it somewhat clumsily. – "Tell him to do as he pleases, just bring Gibbs back. And give him a message from me."

"And what, sir?"

"It's: 'welcome back on board'. Now shoo."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"So, what did the director say?" – Callen inquired as soon as Tony joined them in the bullpen in front of the big display.

"You're in charge. _Boss_." – Tony said, handing Callen his badge who pocketed it happily with a 'good job' before motioning toward the screen.

"Tim has found footage of Jethro entering this building…" – He pointed at a big house. – "… at 8:03. After that, at 8:16 these three men enter as well." – He nodded for Tim to fast forward the recording to the mentioned time so they could all watch the three obviously armed men march in through the front door as if they belonged there. – "There are no cameras inside, or if there are, it's a close circuit, meaning we can't see anything. Cell's dead; was destroyed at 8:22."

"Nobody has come out or gone in since then." – Ziva added.

"The building is abandoned, before that, it was used as headquarters for the consulting firm called 'GrowWise'. Not a real one, of course, at least there are no records of the company ever actually doing anything." – Tim continued.

"But it was owned by the same Dimitri Jethro was going to interrogate." – Callen said. – "And he is the very same person who was seen by witnesses arguing with Petty Officer Clemens just before his untimely death." – He grimly supplied.

Tony nodded.

"So, you were right. Boss is in trouble."

"It would seem so."

"The three men we saw go in… who are they?"

"Facial rec is still running." – Tim said, pointing at his computer. – "For now our best guess is that they're Dimitri's cronies."

Ziva read out loud from a file.

"Dimitri has many friends in and outside Russia and is doing business all over the world, including the US. He's on the watchlist of many agencies, for example Mossad. I could talk to them…"

"Good idea." – The team leader nodded.

"And Dimitri? Is he in there, too?" – Tony asked.

"We don't know." – Callen shook his head. – "We've gone back four hours but he can't be seen on the recording. But we have to assume there's another way in without cameras. There might be a whole armed team inside for all we know. That's where you come in, Agent DiNozzo."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… Have you ever been homeless?"

Tony blinked in confusion, not really understanding what his 'new Boss' meant with the question, but also having a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"DiNozzo, do you copy?" – Came Callen's voice over the small speaker that was carefully hidden in the senior field agent's ear.

"Loud and clear, _Boss_." – Tony whispered as he pushed his cart full of trash (to some: treasures) into a back ally, trying not to appear too suspicious talking to himself. Though, he reasoned, it wasn't uncommon for homeless persons to speak to invisible people. – "There's nothing and nobody here." – He continued, looking around to make sure it was true.

"No other entrance anywhere into the building?"

"No… Wait! I think I can see something…" – With a last look behind his back just to be safe, Tony climbed on top of a dumpster, careful not to fall in it and end up sitting in its smelly content, he pulled himself up to full height. –"There's a window here, and it's big enough for a man of my stature to fit through."

"Do you think somebody could have used it to get in?"

"I believe so… Ouch!"

"What's going on?"

"Nothing… Grrr… Just a small cut." – Tony sucked his bleeding finger, cursing.

"Language, DiNozzo."

"Sorry, _Boss_." – This time, the sarcasm was hard to miss. – "If someone wanted to use this window as means of entering, they'd have to wear protective clothing." – He assessed. – "Too many glass shreds here."

"So, no glass in the window?"

"Not anymore."

"Bingo. Come back, DiNozzo. We'll have to prepare for a fight…"


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14.**

"We're going to assume there's a whole army in there. McGee has been monitoring the cameras, including the ones put up in the alley by DiNozzo, and there hasn't been any movement anywhere, that means whoever was in there when Gibbs entered is still inside."

Callen was standing in the middle of bullpen, surrounded by people, giving instructions, with Vance watching from above, marveling at the efficiency the young team leader had applied to get SWAT to join them and how fast he'd managed to come up with a plausible-sounding plan he was now presenting to his audience.

"What level of firepower are we facing?" – Asked the SWAT team's leader.

Callen shook his head.

"At this point, we don't know anything. We only saw three armed men; they had simple handguns. It's also safe to assume they took off Agent Gibbs' weapon as well, so let's not forget there's an unarmed man in there. But we don't know what else is awaiting us so I'll have the bomb squad there just in case. Ziva, I also want a medical team nearby and ready."

"All right, I'm on it."

"I want someone here on comms and constantly watching the cameras. Abby?"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" – She saluted to show her enthusiasm. She was very worried about her favorite agent and would do anything to help the team find him and bring him home.

"DiNozzo, I want you with SWAT team 2, McGee, you'll be with Team 3. and Ziva: Team 4. I will lead Team 1 and we'll enter the building first." – He brought up the layout of the house Tim had somehow acquired from the internet and showed them the positions each of them needed to take. – "We'll be in constant contact and since you're not used to heavy firefight, you'll let SWAT take the lead. Understood?" – Tim and Tony nodded gravely, knowing very well Callen was right. This wasn't really their area of expertise. – "Good, I mean it. Let them handle the shooting and follow once the coast is cleared. So…"

He continued outlining the plan with everyone paying special attention to details, trying to memorize everything. Lives could depend on it.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"Leon, what are you saying? But he still had his arm in a cast! You can't let him-"

"He's our only chance, Henrietta. Who else could plan this swiftly?"

"Then let him do the planning from the office! Just don't let him go with the SWAT team!"

Vance sighed in frustration. It had seemed like a good idea to call the Los Angeles office and let Hetty know what was going on. In hindsight though: it had been a very-very stupid thing to do!

"Hetty…" – He held up his hand to make her listen when it became apparent she wanted to cut him off. – "The SWAT team is there, he'll be fine."

"Make him stay!" – She insisted vehemently.

"I can't! Do you think he'd listen to me?"

"You're the director for God's sake!"

Yes, damn it, he was, and he didn't want the entire population of headquarters to witness how powerless he was to keep one of his agents in line. Better to not even attempt it than fail at it in front of everyone…

"I'm sorry, Henrietta. I'll call you as soon as we know something." – With that, Vance quickly turned off the screen but not soon enough not to see Hetty's face crumple in pain.

The director cursed himself again for his stupid decision but he knew there was nothing to do about it now. He just had to hope everything would be fine in the end.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"Are you sure you'll be okay doing this with just one working arm?" – Tony asked his new 'boss', concerned despite himself.

"Are you saying you're worried about me, Agent DiNozzo? I thought you'd be happy if I were to get myself killed here today." – Callen said laughing, knowing very well what the other agent thought about him.

"I didn't say I was worried, I just want to make sure you won't endanger the Boss."

"Sure, sure."

One of the SWAT team members came up to them to inform them of their . They were all already wearing their protective uniforms with heavy bulletproof vests and had their guns firmly at place. There were ready.

"Agent Callen?" – Asked the man.

Callen looked around, made sure everyone knew their jobs.

"Let's roll." – He said and the agents got into positions. "On my count: one, two, three."

The door was kicked in, while on the other side of the building, the window Tony had found was stormed. Within seconds, the first team led by Callen was inside, proceeding forward, going in the abandoned house from room to room, searching for enemies; looking for a friend, clearing the coast.

"Federal agents!" – Callen called when he saw a man in dark suit, holding a gun. The man raised the weapon to shoot, and Callen took him out immediately. It was a bit difficult with only his left hand but Hetty had always insisted they learn to use their weaker hand as well because 'you might need it one day'. Well, the one day had come and Callen was grateful for having listened to his mentor.

When they were on the second floor, Callen gave the order for the other teams to join them. Tony, Tim and Ziva all gave him confirmations over the comms. Meanwhile, Abby had assured them that nobody had left the building thus Gibbs still had to be inside; waiting for them.

Soon, they were attacked again, this time by at least four heavily armed terrorist which made Callen immediately grateful he had brought more men along. Many 'federal agents' and 'put down your weapons' later they had two injured SWAT members and five dead attackers to deal with.

"I need paramedics for my team." – Said the SWAT leader and Callen nodded for him to take his hurt men out and arrange care for them. They had to proceed with less backup but it was still enough. It had to be.

Meanwhile, Director Vance stood rooted to the spot in MTAC, watching the pictures of various cameras the NCIS members had attached to their jackets. He had just seen a bullet fly so close to Callen he could swear the man must have felt the wind of it. Damn. How would he explain to Hetty that they had lost 'her boy'? Not to mention how worried he was about the three other NCIS agents who clearly didn't have much experience in situations like this one.

"Agent Callen, do you need to abort?" – He asked, knowing the team leader would hear.

And just like he knew it would be, the answer was a definite 'no, sir'.

"DiNozzo, David, McGee." – Callen whispered. – "Status?"

"Clear."

"All clear here."

"Nothing here."

"Good. When you're done down there, come up to the second floor; we've cleared it. We'll be going to the next level."

"Copy that, _Boss_."

The stairs were creaking as the remaining team climbed them with Callen leading – not that it mattered much after the shooting match they'd just had. It must have woken the dead…

"Federal agents! Throw your gun and come out from behind the cabinet with raised hands." – Callen instructed when he spotted someone's silhouette moving partly obscured by a closet.

"I have a grenade and a hostage!" – Came the answer from the man with heavy Russian accent. – "And I won't hesitate to kill him."

"Then you'll die as well." – Callen tried to reason as the man slowly edged towards him, dragging a half-unconscious Gibbs by the neck. Jesus, his friend looked awful! – "What did you do to him, you bastard!?"

"Oh, I just had a nice little chat with him. The same that he, no doubt, wanted to do to me."

Actually, that was probably true.

"Let him go, Dimitri."

"Oh, so you know who I am. But I don't know who you are, agent!"

The SWAT team was standing behind Callen, guns fixed on the target, waiting for his sign. The only problem was: Dimitri had a hand grenade as well as a gun that was pressed into Gibbs' chest and the two things together didn't make for a good combination.

Callen knew the chances were against them and he didn't want to be responsible for several deaths, so he addressed the remaining three SWAT members.

"You can go now." – He said.

"Sir?"

"Go, and empty the building. Have paramedics on standby."

"But-"

"Go!"

"Yes, sir."

Callen heard Tony, Ziva and Tim's frustrated questions as they were ushered out and Vance's order to give a sitrep, but he angrily tore the comm out of his ear so that they wouldn't bother him. He knew they could still see and hear everything, since he had the camera but at least they wouldn't all talk at the same time, making his head spin. Thinking he'd deal with the consequences of his subordination later – if there would be a later, that is –, he lowered his weapon.

"See, I'm not armed anymore. Why don't you put the gun down as well and get rid of that grenade so that we can talk like civilized people?"

The Russian snorted.

"So, _now_ you want to be civilized. When it's me holding the life of one of your people in my hands, then you want to talk? How ironic."

"What do you want? You're an arms dealer and terrorist. You also deal with drugs. Don't tell me it came as a surprise to you that you're hunted."

"No, it really didn't, now that you mention it."

"Then let him go and I might not kill you."

Dimitri's roaring laughter echoed in the empty room, making it sound positively hyena-like.

"Or I might just kill you both." – He suggested as if it were a much better deal.

Callen pretended to think hard about the offer but in reality he was silently communicating with Jethro who had, in the meantime, regained his consciousness enough to cooperate with whatever plan Callen managed to share with him using their limited options. That was mostly covert sign language with his fingers sticking out of the cast that caused his arm to hang limply by his side, some stolen glances and Morse codes tapped with his feet, all combined in a way that wouldn't get Dimitri's attention. Well, hopefully.

Knowing very well they would have to act soon before Vance could start cursing them so much they'd choke from hiccups, Callen gave the thumbs up to Gibbs and the two lunged forward at the same time. Gibbs grabbed the unsuspecting Dimitri's arm to wrench the gun from it, while Callen went for the grenade, trying to fetch it from the struggling Russian in a way that wouldn't set it off. It wasn't an easy feat the achieve, Callen had to admit it, especially since he sadly also had to realize he wasn't as healthy yet as he'd hoped to be by now. At least, why else would he feel like his wrist was on fire? But thinking about the wrist made him think of the cast that also gave him an idea: using all his strength he smacked the larger man three times over the head with the heavy thing and it had the desired effect almost immediately. Dimitri was quickly neutralized. Next to him, Gibbs panted in pain, not able to stand or even remain sitting up, while Callen tried to come up with something to do with the grenade, since right now, him holding it firmly in his left hand was the only thing keeping it from exploding.

"Ahm… DiNozzo?" – He spoke, knowing that without comms, communications would be quite one-sided. At least the camera still seemed to be intact… – "Get the bomb squad in here. And paramedics." – Moving closer to his injured friend, he patted him gently on the shoulder. – "Good job, Jethro."

A groan was his only answer; Gibbs was nearly completely unconscious again.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15.**

Waking up was a long and painful process for Gibbs who, two days after being captured by Dimitri, opened his eyes to find himself in a plain, white room, surrounded by beeping equipment and a concerned Callen sitting in a chair next to his bed, head hanging awkwardly as he was sleeping.

The older agent didn't know how he himself must look for _him_ to be confined to the bed, because Callen seemed so fragile and small hunched over like that, that Gibbs would have liked to switch places right then and there.

As Gibbs was watching, the Los Angeles agent twitched and quickly shot up, nearly falling off the chair.

"Damn…" – He muttered before he realized the patient was awake. – "Jethro? Wow, you all right?"

"I should ask you the same thing. What happened? You startled…"

"Nah… In my dream, we were chasing a suspect, that's all."

"Aha. I bet I was about to catch him."

"Actually, I was closer."

"Then that should have tipped you off right away that it's just a dream."

Callen rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"I'll have you know: it's usually me catching them."

"You're still dreaming, G."

"And what about that Dutch drug dealer in Serbia? You were three blocks behind when I caught up with him and by the time you arrived, I had him in cuffs and I'd already started the interrogation."

Gibbs smiled at the memory of a very young Callen's overly triumphant expression. Seeing the kid that proud had made all the effort seem worth it.

"You don't even speak Dutch and I had a concussion."

"Keep telling yourself that. I can interrogate anyone in any language, even Chinese if that's what it takes to get the evidence. Anyway, you certainly have a concussion _now_. Along with a nice long list of other injuries. I swear it's like we're in a competition. Are we?"

"If we are, you're still winning, G. I see you have a new cast?" – The silver-haired man nodded toward his friend's right arm.

Callen leant back on his chair and gave an irritated groan.

"Broke my wrist. Again."

Gibbs blinked.

"How did you manage to do that?"

"Dimitri did it, not me. He's got a hard head…"

"What? What does Dimitri's head have to do with your arm?" – It was becoming clear Gibbs couldn't remember in detail everything they had gone through.

"It's a long story. To make it short: I was rescuing you, so I'm pretty sure it's actually your fault!"

Gibbs groaned.

"Great. You come here to heal and I'm giving you back with more injuries than before… Hetty's gonna kill me."

"If you're referring to Jack the Ripper slicing my stomach open-"

"No. I'm talking about that bleeding wound on your forehead. The one they tried to hide by that butterfly bandage. You're clumsy."

Callen's eyes opened wide in mock-surprise.

"Clumsy!? I hauled your ass out!"

"You mean the paramedics did on a stretcher. I can still remember some moments of it, G."

"Same difference…"

"Sure." – Gibbs took a deep breath and asked more seriously. – "How is the team? Is everyone all right?"

"They're all fine, Jethro, don't worry."

"It was stupid of me to go alone."

There was no use denying it.

"Yes, it was."

"I just… Sometimes I… I don't know." – Gibbs admitted in frustration. – "Tony will soon be ready to take over from me. Ziva could do anything she wanted with the training she's had. Tim has grown up and is also ready to become a senior field agent. I don't know how long they'll need me… Sometimes I need to know I can still do it all."

Callen studied the man silently, not quite able to believe that the seemingly always confident Gibbs could have these hidden, deep-rooted fears. He shook his head.

"They will always need you." – He assured. – "They might have their own team. They might be great. Hell, they might become the president of the United States and you'll still be the person who helped them find themselves and trained them to be what they are."

"But-"

"There's no 'but', Jethro. You don't need to prove yourself to them; these people admire you more than you could ever imagine."

"DiNozzo is getting restless. He could have had his own team years ago; Jenny wanted to give him one. And he refused. I think he's regretting it now…" – Callen looked down onto the sheets, arguing with himself, trying to decide if he should speak his mind or not. Gibbs must have realized his dilemma because he said: - "Just say it, G. I can see the wheels turning in your head."

"Okay…" – Callen hesitated only for a moment before deciding on honesty. After all, that was what he himself expected from anyone, wasn't it!? – "Maybe giving him head slaps and barking out gruff orders isn't always the best way of showing your appreciation…"

The Los Angeles agent was sure _he_ would get a head slap for his bluntness so he was somewhat surprised to see his friend actually thinking seriously about what he'd just said.

"You think he believes I don't respect him?"

"I think he doesn't find this behavior funny anymore and especially not when it happens in front of the others. Don't forget he's not a green newbie; things change. He's the senior agent but he's not always respected by Ziva and Tim the way he should be. I must admit: I wouldn't allow this attitude of theirs on my team. I mean, we do joke around a lot with Sam. Kensi and Deeks even more. But when it comes to the chain of command, there's no pardon. I am the team leader and Sam is the senior agent. It would never occur to either Kensi or Deeks to talk back when Sam asks something of them. If I'm not around, Sam is the leader with no questions asked. Even Hetty doesn't interfere with the way the team is operating. They have a problem, they can come to me, but direct disobedience? Never."

"Did you see that on my team?" – Gibbs really seemed interested. No wonder, the two junior agents never did this in front of their boss. But when he wasn't around…

"Yes. Their jokes are too harsh, too insulting. Sometimes, they simply ignore what Tony said, or they outright laugh at him. They talk about him as if he wasn't there and couldn't hear them. And when you head slap him you give them the message: it's all right, he's the class clown, so let's treat him like one."

Gibbs looked suddenly much older and sadder than ever before.

"I have never thought about it like that. I'm a horrible boss."

"No, you're not. Despite that, they all respect you. You will pay attention to these things from now on and you'll all be fine. Besides, what about me? Something happens and I run across the country and disappear for weeks, leaving my team to deal with a terrorist who wants _me_ dead alone? I'm the worst…"

"The way you told me, they insisted on you taking time off until you heal and they wanted to catch him for you."

Callen shook his head sadly.

"Only because I ran away and threw a temper tantrum like a baby in his terrible twos."

"I don't think they felt like that. But the question is: what will you do now?"

That was a question indeed. A question Callen now knew the answer to.

"Well, they caught Comescu yesterday, so there's not much to do with that…" – He smirked. – "Except perhaps interrogation…"

"That's not exactly what I meant…"

"I know…" – Callen sighed. – "I will go home and talk to Hetty. I will listen to her reasons and save judgment for later. And even if I can't forgive her, I won't let it interfere with my work. My team doesn't deserve it." – He promised.

"That's a great decision, G. I'm proud."

Callen held out his left hand for Gibbs to shake.

"Thank you for arranging my rescue and taking me in, Jethro. Say thanks to Fornell from me, too, will you?"

"Sure, but come on, you're not a stray. I didn't 'take you in', you're always welcome in my home. Anytime, G, I mean it."

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

"So, you're going back home?" – Tony asked, trying not to sound too enthusiastic about the idea. Especially since, he didn't know why, but he wasn't sure if he was as happy to get rid of the man as a few days ago he thought he would be.

"Yep, my flight leaves in three hours. No hijacked FBI jet this time though, just a plain commercial flight. Economy…"

All four NCIS agents made a face at that, each of them having had many unpleasant experiences with long flights in small, confined places.

"I'm sure that's Vance's way of punishing you. I don't envy you, man." – Tim said, shaking Callen's good hand, feeling strangely sad and melancholic.

"I'm glad to have met you, Callen. You're an acquitable leader."

"It's 'equitable'. She does that sometimes." – Tony explained, seeing Callen's confused expression.

"Ah! Thanks… I think."

Saying goodbye to a crying Abby wasn't easy, in the end, Callen could only leave her Lab after promising to visit again soon and to invite her as well.

Ducky and Palmer weren't much easier either.

"My boy, are you sure you don't want to stay until that cast can come off?"

"I'm sorry, doctor, I can't. My team is counting on me."

"I understand of course. But you'll be missed."

"Thank you."

It was Jimmy's turn to speak.

"It was great to have a living patient for once, Agent Callen. Sorry if I wasn't always as gentle as I should have been… No practice."

"It's fine. Corpses don't complain, I guess."

"No, they don't."

Ducky smiled.

"Maybe a last check-up before you leave?" – He asked. – "My boy? Agent Callen, where are you going!? Agent Callen!" – But the agent was already far away.

**NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA * NCIS LA**

The next day, Callen entered _his_ bullpen to find _his_ team already waiting for him. The hugs from Kensi and Nell felt so good he could have cried, while Deeks and Eric greeted him just as warmly, making him feel finally at home again. Sam took him aside and didn't let him go for fifteen minutes because he wanted to make absolutely sure his partner was all right and didn't just say it.

"And your wrist?" – He asked for the sixth time within two minutes. – "Are you certain we shouldn't go to the hospital and have it X-rayed? I mean, what if it will heal the wrong way, and-"

Callen smiled, to his own surprise not even mildly annoyed at the attention he would normally hate.

"I'm sure it's fine." – He assured. – "I'm scheduled for a check-up next week anyway."

"Good, good." – Sam sighed. – "Who breaks their wrist two times in a row? G, I swear, you'll be the death of me one day!"

"Sorry."

Callen could see Hetty watching their reunion from far away, never approaching but her eyes didn't leave him; he felt like she could see into his very soul. Sam turned to see what Callen had noticed and saw their operations manager, too.

"She's been very worried. Beside herself when we heard about your little side project in D.C." – His friend said. – "What were you thinking, G? You were injured and I thought you went there to rest and get better. And then you start organizing a complete mission that would normally take days to prepare!"

Callen was still looking at Hetty when he answered.

"I was thinking I wanted to save a friend in need."

"Yeah, but why you? Gibbs has an own team and there were other agencies helping out. And you were injured!" – By now, Callen and Hetty had been staring at each other for a while, neither of them making the first move. And while Sam was going on and on about how dangerous and stupid it was what Callen had done, the team leader had come to a decision. – "You could have died there and I really don't understand-"

"Sorry, Sam, hold that thought for later. Gotta do something."

He slowly edged towards Hetty's desk. The small woman unashamedly stared at him as he stopped in front of her, also silently regarding her. This staring contest went on for minutes before she cracked a small smile.

"Mr. Callen, it's good to have you back." – She said, noticeably careful and uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

"It's good to be back." – Callen said equally as tentatively. – "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry." – She said at the same time. They both laughed.

"Great. We're both sorry then… Hetty, I…" – He took a deep breath and fell into the nearest chair. – "I won't lie to you, I was angry and disappointed to learn you were keeping secrets from me about my own life. You know I've spent years trying to find out more about my background and you've known things the whole time. I hated you."

She averted her eyes that looked suspiciously bright and shiny.

"I swear to you, I've always wanted to tell you. It's just that I never found the right time… When you were just a teenager, you were too young. You were an angry, difficult child, Mr. Callen, and I didn't want to tell you anything that would cause you to get into even more trouble than you already were in. Then you were a young adult, still distrustful and looking for your place in the world. You were job hopping madly, going from agency to agency, from country to country… I was constantly worried you'd get yourself killed if I told you anything that upset you because you didn't seem like you valued your life too much." – She closed her eyes and a lone tear escaped. – "Then you came here and I watched from afar how you kept everyone at arm's length and didn't let them close, not even your partner however he was trying. You disappeared for days and nobody knew where you were; even Lara Macy gave up trying to keep tracks on you after a while and she was your boss! I worked hard to make you move into your own house and even now I'm not sure you consider it a home. At least you have a tight-knit group for a team and I'm here, still dedicating my life trying to make you see… Mr. Callen: you have your home and family right here. I understand that you want to learn your history, and I promise you I'll tell you everything I know, the way I know it. No secrets anymore. But the past doesn't define you! The present does. I wished for you to understand it before this talk…"


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

After Hetty's painfully honest speech, Callen was stunned into silence. He had to admit he had never thought about how hard Hetty must have had it with him and how despite everything he'd done to her as a very difficult teenager, she'd been there the whole time, herding him, supporting him. He'd been fifteen the first time she'd come into his life and he hadn't exactly been a joy to be around…

"_This will be your room while you're here, Mr. Callen." – She said, opening the door to a huge, beautifully furnished room. This had always been little Callen's dream: an own room. Something that was only his. He'd never had that. But now, at fifteen, having been caught by the police after running away from his last, abusive foster parents, then rescued by this funny little woman, he honestly couldn't care less. Besides, she'd said 'while you're here', so that meant it wouldn't last anyway. So he just nodded, not saying anything. – "Would you like to take a look around first or shall we have dinner now?" – It didn't matter to him either way, so he shrugged, looking down at the floor, since he didn't think getting to know his new environment would be of any use. By the time he'd get used to things, he'd be brought somewhere else, like always. – "All right, dinner it is then." – The woman called 'Hetty' sighed, and motioned for him to follow her into the diner._

_The diner was just as big and elegant as the rest of the house. If Callen didn't know better, he'd say it was a palace, not a house. He saw that the table was already set for two and a large bowl full of what looked like some kind of soup stood in the middle of it. The boy was starving, since his last home had the rule 'you act out, you don't eat' and apparently, he was acting out a lot. And yet… He'd learnt at his foster homes number 5, 12 and 23 that eating wasn't always safe when you were in a new place so he tried to look determined when he said:_

"_I'm not hungry."_

"_I see…" – Hetty said very slowly, studying his guest's face thoughtfully. – "Well, Mr. Callen, no problem, but I'd like you to sit here next to me, so that we can talk a bit if it's all right with you."_

_She was really asking if it was all right with him? Why would she care what he wanted? Nobody ever did. This must be a trap, Callen decided as he slowly took the seat closest to the exit – just to be safe._

"_Sure…"_

_They sat quietly for a while, the boy not daring to even take a louder breath for fear he'd interrupt her prayer or something. Some houses had strange rules he didn't understand and frequently violated because of that… And of course it always had awful consequences. After a while, she finally started to eat and Callen felt his mouth water at the sight of food. And its scent. And-_

"_Are you certain, Mr. Callen, that you're not hungry?"_

_He felt like crying but nodded anyway._

"_I'm certain. I'm full."_

_Hetty didn't seem convinced at all. She put down her own spoon and sighed._

"_What did they put into your food, Mr. Callen?"_

"_Huh?"_

"_Drugs? Medications? What?"_

"_Nothing… I really don't know what you're talking about…" – Actually, it had been both. There had been Ritalin and Adderall, that had made him feel dizzy, his heart race and his head pound. Then there had been many kinds of sedatives that had him puke his guts out or turned him into a zombie. Not to mention the illegal ones… _

"_Oh, Mr. Callen, I'm so sorry…" – She looked like she was about to cry and now Callen just wished for the floor to open and swallow him at once. He wanted to be anywhere but near this funny woman who was reading his mind. Maybe he should start wearing a tin foil hat. Maybe- - "Here, you finish this." – She placed her own plate in front of him and took his empty one instead. Callen blinked in confusion. – "I just ate from it, didn't I?"_

"_Yes…"_

"_So, would I do it, if I had put something in it?"_

_That was a valid point…_

"_I guess not…?"_

"_Definitely not. Especially since I'm smaller than you, so it would affect me more. It's safe, Mr. Callen. Eat."_

_That was all the persuasion he needed. Callen took a careful sip and determined that this homemade chicken soup was the best thing he'd ever tasted. He ate three platefuls of it, much to the amazement of Hetty. _

So, his stay at Hetty's had been the best time of his entire childhood. Of course, it had come to an end when she'd been called back by the CIA to active duty and Callen had been moved yet again. The next foster home hadn't been entirely bad but the ones after that…

So, the next time they'd met had been when Callen had run away yet again at the age of 17…

"_Mr. Callen! Wait! What are you _doing_?"_

_Callen stopped and turned to see Hetty nearing him. He impatiently set his duffel bag on the ground and tapped his foot. He didn't have time for this, his plane would be leaving soon…_

"_I'm going away, Hetty. I'm done with foster homes and with the system dictating what happens with my life." – He said, not leaving place for argument. His body was full of bruises under his long-armed shirt from the beatings he'd received at the latest place he'd been and that had been the last straw. He was never going back there or anywhere else for that matter. He would be his own person, he'd made sure of that._

"_So, you're running all the way to Russia? Couldn't you find something nearer?"_

_The teenager shrugged._

"_It's as good a place to die as any."_

"_Don't be stupid!" – She hissed and Callen's eyes widened. He'd never heard her use a swear word before; he hadn't even believed she knew any. – "You're seventeen! You can't be deployed like that yet. What about high school?"_

_He shrugged._

"_We're soldiers, sent there to die. One person more or less, so what? They don't mind my age. And I don't care about school. They didn't ask for a degree either."_

"_But you're not with the Military. You went to CIA. And the CIA doesn't take minors."_

_He sighed._

"_All right, I might have lied about my age a bit."_

"_And fooled the CIA? I don't think so. Mr. Callen, what's going on?"_

"_I thought you knew everything…"_

"_Apparently not!"_

_Oh, whatever…_

"_I went there, told them my situation and that I wanted out. I'm not afraid of danger and I don't care about dying. I told them I learn languages easily and can blend in everywhere… And they offered me a gig in Russia. End of the story."_

"_And what about school? What about the system? Mr. Callen, that's not a game!"_

"_I know it's not!" – He spat angrily, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. – "This is my way out. If I make it back alive, I'll get a new start. A chance. What else do I have? I don't have a family, I don't have friends, I won't have money… I'll end up on the streets, they'll just set me out into the world when I turn 18 and then what? I've seen it happen many times. Hetty! I don't have anything or anywhere to turn to!"_

"_That's not true, you have _me_! Go back to school, get your degree, get into a collage and I'll help you all the way."_

"_You can't help me! You couldn't even keep me when you had to go back to work!"_

_He knew she couldn't argue with that. She had tried and failed to get permission to adopt him, having been told that a CIA agent would never ever get a child. She visibly broke at the reminder._

"_But, when you'll be a legal adult, it will all change…"_

"_No, nothing will change. I'll still have a criminal record and no future."_

"_Your record… come on, it's nothing."_

"_I broke a man's arm." – Callen reminded her even though he was sure she hadn't forgotten. – "That won't just go away. Unless the CIA does the cleaning up like they promised…"_

"_They promise a lot of things."_

"_You would know." – He said darkly._

"_Yes, that's exactly it: I KNOW." – She sighed. – "You did it in self-defense. Your foster father came with a knife at you."_

"_That's not what the DA said. Or the judge."_

"_That's what _you_ said, Mr. Callen, and it's good enough for me."_

_How he wished the world would be like that. How he wished things for him could be as easy as she made them out to be…_

"_Thank you. It means a lot."_

_She looked him in the eyes._

"_But you're still going."_

"_Yes, I am."_

"_There's nothing I can say or do to stop you?"_

"_Nothing. I've made up my mind. I'm packed. The plane is waiting. I don't have anywhere else to go. I've burnt all bridges…"_

"_Then promise me this: don't be alone out there! Make a friend, keep together, keep each other safe."_

_Callen smiled ruefully._

"_Make a friend? Me? Not likely. You know I don't do well with teams. And people. Or even just one person…"_

"_Mr. Callen-"_

"_I need to go now, Hetty. Take care." – Picking up his duffel bag and lifting it over his shoulders again, he let her hug him for the first time and even give him a kiss on his cheek. Showing emotions really wasn't her strong side, and neither was it his. But now was a special occasion, since he knew they most likely wouldn't meet again. He tried not to wince when she pressed at a large bruise on his back caused by foster father number 37 just last night, right before Callen had left the house and this miserable life behind forever. – "Thank you for everything."_

"_I couldn't do much good…" – She said, completely choked up._

"_That's not true. You're the first person to believe in me. It really means a lot. I think it's what gave me strength to finally stand up to myself."_

"_I expect will see great things from you in the future, Mr. Callen, so you just stay alive and well, all right?"_

"_Right… Good bye, Hetty."_

"_Good bye, Mr. Callen."_

Over the following years, Hetty had never completely disappeared from his life, even when there were long periods of time they hadn't met, she had always been there, in the background, keeping an eye on him and smoothing the way for him. She had always pressed for him to retire from the alphabet agencies, to settle down and have a normal life. He knew she really wanted him to have a wife, 2.5 kids, a white picket fence home and a dog. But she had, with time, also understood it was not going to happen and then she'd helped him get into NCIS, to be able to make things his own here so that he wouldn't have to be surrounded by bureaucrats in DC, to have a team he could actually lead and work with the way he wanted and to at least have a house, even if not the typical American dream style. She had been doing it all for him. And so much more…

"I think I understand it now." – He said honestly. – "I think I know why you did it and I can't hate you for that. I'm grateful."

She looked so relieved that it nearly broke Callen's heart. He had never thought his opinion mattered so much to her, but apparently, it did. More than anything.

"Will you listen to my story now?"

"Yes, I would like to know everything. Hetty, do you know what the G stands for?"

She shook her head immediately.

"No, I honestly don't. I'm sorry. But I did know your mother… Clara."

_The End_


End file.
